I want to see the sky from above
by Big Cat
Summary: Susan Sto Helit wants to die. Her Grandfather gives her opportunity to reconsider. Ch.8 now on: Susan and Death argue. FINISHED
1. Prologue

**I want to see the sky from above**

**Synopsis: **Susan Sto Helit wants to die. Her Grandfather gives her opportunity to reconsider.

**Prologue**

She thought the darkness was something very common with her, she had always seen herself as a person with too much shadows inside her. Been Death's granddaughter was not easy, but what she knew was that she didn't want it. She just wanted to be a regular woman, not someone that could break the reality and time for her own selfish reasons.

Susan Sto Helit. That was not just a name, it was a title. Her parents had given her a special statute into the society, which she actually hated. No one wanted to share anything with a duchess, even if the duchess was not nobility as such. At least she was not feeling like one. But she was and that weirdly turned her into someone one could stay away. Far away.

She looked at herself in the mirror and felt nothing. It was her again, nothing had changed, she had no wrinkle on her face nevertheless she was thirty three years old. She was thirty three for many years and she knew whom to blame for that. Being Death's granddaughter was funny thing, nevertheless the fact that Death was not a person available for any kind of a physical contact. But she had the odd idea that her grandparent wanted to keep her away from Time, because he turned into sentimental old man while she was around, pushing her into stuff she would never do if she was to chose. Bur Death was Death and she couldn't change that. He wanted her there, by his side, he wanted her watching at him not as on metaphysical personalization, but as her grandfather. She didn't know why he kept her there in his domain for so long time. Perhaps he knew she would become old woman and die if she used to stay on the Disc.

But what Death didn't want was that Susan obsessively wanted to die.


	2. Chapter 2: The shadow of Death

**I want to see the sky from above**

**Synopsis: **Susan Sto Helit wants to die. Her Grandfather gives her opportunity to reconsider.

**Chapter 2: The shadow of Death**

Death was not in a mood for a long time, if time could do anything with his domain, where its pass was strictly prohibited. He was not in a mood, because he knew what was happening to Susan. She was his only family, daughter of his own adopted daughter and the apprentice he gathered during one of his numerous moods. He knew exactly what she wanted, but he couldn't imagine his existence without her. He made the mistake once, he couldn't let it happen again.

Susan wanted to die. She wanted to die, because she had nothing to live for. Her parents were dead, her friends, as far as she had some, were dead too. In the beginning her presence in his domain was interesting for her. She wanted to escape from her pity life, putting her back to everything boring around her. Now she wanted to die, because she missed everything she had, no matter how boring it was.

She gladly agreed to come here, but time passed faster than Death could admit it, she finally understood she was getting older, nevertheless she was not getting even a second older than her thirty third birthday, when she took her grandfather's bony hand and followed him to the white horse, snorting on her balcony.

Death observed her demeanour lately and he didn't like it. Perhaps he could let Lobsang come from time to time to visit her, nevertheless how irritated she was becoming after that. He knew Susan wanted to live, but he couldn't make the mistake again. He knew that if he let her go, she would become old woman and die, and he would have no one to talk with, to play chess and be around. He sighed deeply. Yes, he knew what was going on, he was achieving some human feelings, like selfishness and perfidy. He wanted to have Susan here for as long as he could but he knew Susan was unhappy. He had to let her go, nevertheless how desperately he wanted her stay.

SUSAN, MAY I TALK TO YOU FOR A MINUTE?

She was in her room, sprawling on her bed, when she heard her grandfather's voice into her head. She sighed with boredom and stepped out of the room, following the white-black scull carpet leading to the study.

I WANT TO TELL YOU SOMETHING IMPORTANT, SUSAN, said Death when she entered. The distance between the large heavy door and Death's desk disappeared with a blink of her eyes. Susan looked at her grandparent's bustle.

'What are you doing, grandfather?'

I HAVE TO LEAVE THIS UNIVERSE FOR SOME TIME, answered Death, preparing his stuff. IT APPEARS LIKE THERE IS A MASSIVE CATACLYSM IN OTHER DIMENSION SO I HAVE A LOT OF WORK TO DO. YOU KNOW, DUTY CALLS, I HAVE TO GO THERE AND BRANDISH THE SCYTHE.

His bony smile made her shimmer. She followed his steps uttering the marble floor. That was not the first time Death was going out of the universe, while she was here. The last time he was gone for very long time, he explained that there was a small double star collapsing somewhere, and some thousand live planets he had to do.

'What about the dead here, in this dimension?'

I WILL NOT LOSE MY SLEEP BECAUSE OF THAT, answered Death.

'But, grand…'

I KNOW WHAT YOU FEEL ABOUT THE DUTY AND I AM AFRAID I HAVE TO USE YOUR SERVICES FOR SOME TIME. I'M SORRY I HAVE TO BRAKE INTO YOUR PRINCIPALS AGAIN, SUSAN. Death looked at her, while he was marching to the large main gate. DON'T WORRY, I MANAGED EVERYTHING. YOU ARE MY GRANDDAUGHTER, I TRUST YOU WILL DO THE DUTY AS I WOULD. BUT DON'T WORRY, YOU WILL HAVE AN ASSISTANT. WHILE I AM AWAY, I WILL LEAVE A HELPING HAND HERE, SO YOU COULD COLLECT THE DEAD WITH NO PROBLEM. He looked at her, assuring himself she had understand what he was talking about. She sighed uneasily. Death stepped out. AND YOU… he turned to her, while exiting. …YOU COULD HAVE A VACATION AWAY FROM YOUR OLD GRANDDAD.

Susan watched him stepping into the colourless hurricane, converging at the doorsteps. He turned to her, blinked kindly and said: DO WHATEVER YOUR CONSCIOUS SAYS, SUSAN. HAVE FUN. WHEN I RETURN I WOULD HAVE A STRONG TEA WITH YOUR HOT RAISIN MUFFINS. UNTIL THEN YOU ARE FREE TO DO WHATEVER YOU NEED.

The hurricane closed behind him and disappeared. Susan sighed and closed the door.

---

The shadow was a toll figure as bony as Susan's grandfather, but there was a big difference – he had a face. It appeared when she woke up the next day, it was standing by her bed, looking at her from above, smiling.

'Who are you?' cried Susan, pulling her blanket up. The figure answered:

WHO ARE YOU?

Susan observed its stillness for some moment, then she remembered her grandparent's words and relaxed.

'Turn around, I want to dress up.'

TURN AROUND, I WANT TO DRESS UP, answered the shadow. Susan stared at it, then she smiled and said like to herself. 'What an idiot. Granddad gave me an idiot for assistant.'

WHAT AN IDIOT, repeated the shadow. GRANDDAD GAVE ME…

'Stop it!' shouted Susan and jumped from her bed, reaching for her cotton freek. The shadow opened its mouth to pronounce the words, but Susan's hand was faster. 'I guess, that is what you can't do – speaking your own words, but I have to manage with it. I used to be a hell good teacher. I will teach you _speaking_ in no time.' The shadow stepped back at her angry stare. She sighed with boredom, and sat on the bed's edge, preparing to exit her room, pulling on her socks and putting on her black leather shoes. The shadow tried to imitate her, but as far as he had no socks and shoes, it was hard job. He followed her out of her premises, bursting into the kitchen, where Alfred already served breakfast.

'Good morning, Alfred' said Susan, sitting on her chair. The old man observed the tall figure sitting nearby with scared eyes. Then he sighed deeply and reached for another dish. 'I see you have met John.'

'John?' jittered Susan.

'Yes, master's Shadow. I haven't seen him since the last time master had to go on such a long trip. Good morning, John.'

GOOD MORNING, JOHN, answered the shadow and smiled happily.

'What is he?' asked Susan, coming closer to Alfred's ear. The old man lifted his shoulders.

'Just a shadow, I believe master had explained you what was he for.'

'Not at all' sighed Susan. 'He said I would have a company when doing the duty, but I thought…'

'You think too much' said Alfred. 'Don't!'

Susan fixed her eyes in his. Alfred shimmered, he had bad experience with Susan's stare before. She was not like Death, although she was his only grandchild. She was worse. He could talk to Death, he could even work on him sometimes, but Susan was a mistress he would never even think working for. The last few years she became the worst thought Alfred had in the morning. Meeting Susan on breakfast was an ordeal.

'Dou you want some eggs, John?' said Alfred, turning his attention aside from her stare. The tall figure nodded.

DO YOU WANT SOME EGGS, JOHN?

'Scrambled or poached?' asked Alfred. The shadow turned his head left, repeating: SCRAMBLED OR POACHED? Alfred nodded and made a step aside, already breaking the eggs in a big bowl. Susan sighed with boredom, let the fork on her unfinished plate and stood up. The shadow followed her, still sticking his fork into his sausage dish.

'What would I do with you, John?' asked Susan, sitting on Death's grand desk. The shadow tried to reply, but his mouth was too full to have any sound out. 'I guess I have to get accustomed with you, because granddad… I guess Granddad told you what you are here for… I wish he could have told me…' She blinked for several times, staring at Death's shadow, who watched at her with interest. 'Oh, bugger!'

She put her hands over her face and sighed deeply. The shadow came near and put a hand on her head, sighing with the same manner.

OH, BUGGER!

Susan turned her wet eyes to him, looking at his considered face. She pulled his hand away from her head and stood silently.

'I have to stay with you, so don't even think patronizing me, stupid shadow of Death. Don't even think acting as a good old chap, I hate it. Just stay as away as you could. All right? Fine!'

She made her steps to the other direction and felt the shadow's movement beside her. His black robe trembled when she opened the door leading to the Hourglass hall.

---

Binkey neighed from the stables and jumped in a full speed in the air, disappearing into the black. Alfred looked at the horse traces on the ground and sighed. A dark silhouette appeared in his back.

IS SHE GONE?

Alfred almost fainted away, staring at Death's figure. He took a deep breath.

'Why are you doing this, master?' he asked, when Death sat at the kitchen table. The bony man looked at Alfred's wistful eyes and sighed.

I HAD TO DO THIS, ALFRED. OTHERWISE SHE WOULD LEAVE ME FOR GOOD.

'No, master, you mislead yourself' said Alfred, serving him a cup of hot tea. 'She knows what is the best for her and she would…'

SHE WANTS TO LEAVE ME, ALFRED. Death's facial structure moved strangely, his eyeholes flamed with a blue light. SHE WANTS TO GO AWAY. SHE WANTS TO GROW OLD… AND DIE. AND I CAN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT. NOT ANY MORE…

Alfred looked at his master's face, trying not to put attention on the moisture on his front scull. He shut the oven's flames down and nervously sat nearby, massaging his palms. He couldn't look at his face. Death was… anxious, he could admit he saw it for first time. The last decade his master turned into stranger. When Susan came to live here, he thought she would stay for some time, not expecting Death would refuse letting her go. He observed their argues with raising interest, expecting to see them both fighting. But what happened next he didn't expect. Susan brought herself under the sway of her grandfather, he admitted he never expected that. Long time she refused to stay, then she obeyed Death's orders and turned herself into her inner world. After the last argument Susan Sto Helit became a different person. What Death did after was a shock. He put on the stables a prohibition for Susan, not letting the young woman cross even inch in its depths, prohibiting her have even a thought about escaping.

And now he let her go. What would happen next?

'Why are you doing this, master?' asked Alfred, staring at Death's nervous hands. The tall man moved up and made some steps away. He marched to the door, stopped at the doorsill and sighed dramatically.

WHEN SHE COMES BACK… He sighed hardly. …IF SHE COMES BACK… DON'T TELL HER I AM HERE. IT WOULD BREAK MY FIB LATER.

Alfred listened after Death's steps through the stone corridor, the sound his study door swung open and the gentle shut afterwards.

---

Susan let Binkey go and looked at the Shadow's face.

'This is Ankh-Morpork' she said, lifting her hand. 'I used to live her long time ago, as I said I was a teacher, here' she pointed at the building at her left, 'was my home. Let's see if my room is still to let.'

She made a step to the high stairs leading to the low entrance door. The shadow stared at her with a lack of understanding. She arched her eyebrows. 'You are not expecting me to stay in the domain, are you? I've been there for many years, I need some fresh air, after all I have a vacation away from my grandfather and I will take as much possible as I could.'

She took John's hand and led him to the gate, already knocking on it.

'Who is there?' answered a voice, a small head produced behind the semi-opened door, staring at Susan and her company. The young woman sniffed and cleaned her wet nose with her dirty handkerchief. 'You are here for the room, aren't you? Very fast you are! Thanks gods I've put the label on time. Mr. Bertram's funeral was yesterday, I didn't expect someone to ask for his room so soon. Come in, come in. Let me show you around. This is the main room, we still gather here late at evening, mother insisted, gods bless her soul. Here is the drawing room, here is the kitchen, we have meals on this table. By the way the breakfast is at seven, the dinner is served at nine. The room is upstairs, let me show you…'

'Is Mrs. Apathy still well?' asked Susan, following the young woman upstairs. She stopped her pace, turned around and stared at her.

'Grandma died seven years ago, miss.'

'Oh, forgive me' sighed Susan. Her eyes darkened. When she went to her grandfather's domain Mrs. Apathy was still alive and not ill at all. How much time had passed… She looked at the woman's cantankerous face and tried to smile. 'I haven't been in town for some time; I didn't know she was ill…'

'Well, she was quite ill lately, thanks gods she passed away peacefully.'

Susan stared at her back, while they were climbing up the stairs. The woman stopped at some door and opened it with a full swing. 'Number eleven. Very cosy room, isn't it?'

Susan fixed her eyes inside. The memories floated her mind, she smiled and nodded.

'Not big enough for two,' continued the landlady with a tense look, covering them both with a lack of understanding and in great prejudice. 'I suppose your companion might need separate room. I have something in the attic, it has to be cleaned, but it looks quite comfortable.'

She led them upstairs again. The attic was a quite dusty and dark place, but it seemed John liked it very much. He followed Susan around the small round room, copying whatever she was doing. She observed everything with interest and suspicion. Finally she nodded and pronounced calmly.

'We will take both rooms.'

The landlady nodded in reply. 'The rent is seven dollars a month per each room, I insist for a double rent in advance.'

Susan thrust her hand into her hooded mantle and put some coins in the woman's palms. She stared at the gold for long time.

'I would like to pay for six months in advance if you have nothing on mind.'

'Cool!' said the landlady and smiled. 'As I said the breakfast is at seven…' She stared at Susan and laughed nervously. 'I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I am Rose Mildbird, I hold the boarding house. And you are?'

Susan sighed with boredom. She thrust her hand to shake Rose's.

'I am Susan Sto…' she cleared her throat. 'Susan Stow. And this is my… uncle… John.' She looked at the girl. Her face showed she was still expecting. Susan cleared her throat again. 'Me and my… uncle run a small business… we collect… things.'

'Oh!' cried Rose. 'You are one of those trifle merchants, my mother, gods bless her soul, used to say, "If you have to buy a good merchandise, Rose, go to the nearest trifle shop".' She giggled. 'What things do you sell?'

Susan stared at her. 'We don't sell…' The young girl looked at her with eyes wide open. 'We… collect… things' continued Susan, staring at the Shadow.

'Clever thing!' smiled Rose with a finger on her temple. 'Buy cheep and sell on much higher cost. You must be very rich…'

'Not at all' sighed Susan and followed the girl down. _Not if I have to hire the same den as before_, she thought. She turned around to see the shadow. He stayed at the attic's door with his eyes fixed in her. He pointed at his cloak, where a small hourglass appeared. Susan sighed and followed his disappearance.

---

Mr. Spunky Smileface stepped out of the blood pool his body was in and sighed deeply. He still held his knife, too sharp as it appears, and looked at his front. The woman in black waved with her scythe and separated the butcher's dead body from his undead soul.

'Wow, that is a sharp thing!' cried Mr. Smileface without care that his soul started fading and tried to touch the scythe. Susan removed it from his site and sighed with boredom.

'FOLLOW THE LIGHT, MR. SMILEFACE.'

The butcher stared at her with a lack of understanding, then he looked at the shadow at her right. It nodded politely. Mr. Smileface tried to answer but his face stared at the distance at his front, his eyes lightened and he disappeared.

Susan exhaled deeply and turned to the shadow.

'Let's go, John. We have nothing more to do here.'

The shadow smiled and produced another hourglass from the depth of his robe. Susan rounded her eyes and sighed. She thrust her hand to take his. The universe stopped existing for a second and them both disappeared in the night.

---

Death came through the wall into the room where Susan slept. He rummaged in her cloak, collected something and put something else in. He looked at Susan sleeping. His little angel, he thought, embracing her pale face from a distance. He summoned all his patience, watching her relaxed and happy sleep. He looked at his back, where his shadow was standing. He looked at John, stared at his face with angry look and sighed. Then he put a hand on his shoulder and disappeared. John sat at the nearest chair and thrust his legs to rest for a minute.

---


	3. Chapter 3: Sir Samuel Vimes

**I want to see the sky from above**

**Chapter 3: Sir Samuel Vimes**

There was something important to do and Susan knew that. Being Death's deputy was a hateful job. The shadow's presence made her think she was under her grandfather's wing again and that was not something she used to like. Being away from Death's reach and still under his strong arm… Despite of the fact that John was a person Susan could accept. He was silent most of the time, following and copying all her actions, he bothered Susan as much as she could accept it, but being her grandfather's copy was something she couldn't live with in this moment. It was hard to accept her grandfather's wish to stay with her at any cost. She knew what he wanted, when he imprisoned her in his domain and she agreed with that. After all Susan was in age that separated her youth from what was coming afterwards. But imprisonment…That was odd, whatever he says, even more, it was hard to believe he would go to such step.

It was her second week on Death's deputy position. Time passed faster when you are thirty three, even more, when you are in the world that lives, breaths and walks differently than in the invisible dark domain she had spend more years than she could admit.

The time had passed. Twenty years… Twenty years in Death's domain, where nothing changes, nothing is different than the day before. She thought that if she goes out in the real world it wouldn't be changed more than she could expect. But it did. Twenty years change many things, especially when you are accustomed with the world you used to live some moments before.

Ankh-Morpork hadn't change much, generally it was the same dirty smelly pot, the streets were the same, the building, even the people remained unchanged. Generally… But there were some majestic differences. She knew some people before, some of them she thought was some kind of friends. Now, twenty years after, most of them they were dead. Or extremely old, so old that they couldn't remember her face, not talking about her name.

When John gave her the next hourglass she took it with no interest. Another job to do. Then she looked at the label and her eyes opened widely. 'Samuel Vimes' was a name she couldn't forget. She gazed at the Shadow of Death and questioned her eyes in his deep stare. He lifted his shoulders and sighed. Susan looked at the label again. She hadn't seen His Grace since the formal occasion for her last birthday. He was still young, as young a fifty and some year old man could look like. He was one of Susan's friends, his wife was a lady she liked much, because of her genuine behaviour, her smiling nature, her tenderness… When she came to Ankh-Morpork after her compulsory exile, she never had the meaning to meet them both, although she knew they were both alive. Time had passed for them with more or less visual trace. Susan saw Lady Sybil some days before, she was almost the same, her face didn't change much, her strong figure too. She was with her daughter, Susan didn't know her name back then, although she was close enough to hear the telltale word coming from the young woman. She must have been about seventeen years old, quite beautiful, inheriting her father's facial problem. The next day Susan's curiosity overbeared her and she made her path by the Vimes-Ramkin estate.

It was getting darker, Susan knocked at the side door and waited. The shuffle came nearer, the door opened and an old man's face appeared.

'May I help you, young lady?' asked Willikins. Susan smiled. He hadn't change much, not watching at the walking stick and his shaking hands. The same polite person she knew twenty years ago.

'Yes, thank you.' she replied when the butler let her in. 'Is Lady Sybil here?'

The man nodded and produced a salver. Susan put her card there, the butler red it backwards and smiled, turning his back at her, snuffling to the door at the end of the entrance hall. There was a cry from the distance, the door opened and Lady Sybil's heavy figure rushed from there, stopping some meters from the young woman's position. Her face changed, when she glanced her eyes at Susan, she sighed deeply and smiled again.

'Oh, forgive me, young lady, I thought I would meet a friend I haven't seen for so many years.' She fixed her stare at her, rounding her tall body with interest for some time. 'You must be Susan's daughter' she pronounced thoughtfully. 'The similarity is… spectacular. Indeed… Oh, dear, I didn't know Susan had a daughter. You look so… mature…'

'I am thirty-three years old, milady' answered Susan, smiling with boredom.

'Thirty three?' Susan giggled. 'My god! Your mother must have produced you secretly. Twenty years ago I didn't even heard about her having a child. Oh, foxy Susan Sto Helit! Cheatings little foxy!'

She giggled again, grabbed her at her shoulders and led her to the door she just entered from. 'I have to introduce you to the family. Don't even oppose me, child. They have to meet you. Your mother was a good friend of ours, did you know? Such a surprise! Such a surprise, indeed!'

The family sat by the dinner table. Sir Samuel Vimes was on his leading place, watching at the door, a young man sat by his left side, another was on his right side. Two women sat at their next.

'Dear, you would never believe whom I brought for dinner!' cried Sybil, leading Susan through the door. The party turned to their direction. The young men stood up to welcome the new guest and bowed politely. Samuel Vimes nodded cautiously, staring at Susan and his wife.

'Presenting…' Lady Sybil giggled. '…Susan Stow.' She arched her eyebrows. 'Thirty three year old daughter of… guess who! Susan Sto Helit!'

Samuel Vimes laughed, lifting from his place with some difficulty.

'That foxy little thing!' giggled the old man, coming nearby. 'She must have hiding you from us! Well, well, well… Who could believe? Susan's daughter…'

He took her hand and shook it dramatically. His eyes observed her movement Susan felt uncomfortably and cleared her throat. Samuel Vimes smiled at her and led her to the table, pointing at the younger people around.

'Folks, let me introduce you our best friend's daughter. Susan, this is my eldest son, Sam.'

The dark haired man nodded politely, staring at Susan's direction. She smiled at him. It was not too back in time when she saw him for last time. He was fifteen years old, quite mature for his age and already handsome. He loved being around miss Susan, she was not only a acquaintance, she was a friend he used to spend much more of his time with, than he would admit. She was some kind of his teacher, but mostly, she was his confidante, he shared his childish secrets with. She smiled at him. He didn't change much. Maybe a little bit sad looking, grown up and still very alienated.

'My next son, Frederic.'

The other man smiled at her and took her hand to a gentle kiss. He lifted the woman at his left, embracing her tenderly. 'Your Grace, nay I introduce you my wife, Alexandra.'

The young woman smiled carefully, bowing with a simple curtsy. 'My pleasure, Your Grace.'

Susan bowed in reply and fixed her eyes in the last woman she remembered from the previous day. Sam Vimes followed her eyes.

'This is our daughter, Theresa, my little flower.' He giggled, lifting his hand to shake her shoulders. She smiled at her father and pressed him a tender childish kiss.

The girl came near, bowed with respect and smiled happily. Susan was in shock. She knew the family for long time, yes, they were endowed with Sam Jr., but she never expected the nature to be so kind to them again. Twice.

'Tell us everything, Susan!' said Lady Sybil, when the servants brought the new dinner set and placed it at her front. 'Who is your father? How are they? Would they visit us soon?'

Susan stared at Her Ladyship and sighed deeply. 'My parents are dead.'

Lady Sybil sighed soundly and took her hand. 'I'm sorry, Susan. I didn't know. I'm so sorry…'

Susan nodded politely and removed her hand from her hold. 'I have to go now' she said slowly, looking at the party around her. 'I just came to say…'

The butler came near her and pronounced gently. 'Excuse me, madam, there is a man at the door, he says he is your uncle.'

'_He did_?' jumped Susan. That was something new. The shadow was not talkative more than a mirror.

'Yes, madam, he did' answered Willikins. 'Shall I let him join you?' He looked at her, than at his master. Samuel Vimes leaned back and smiled questionably. 'Of course, let him in, Willikins. Susan, we didn't know you had an uncle.'

Susan sighed with boredom, explaining. 'I didn't know I have another relative two weeks ago. He just… appeared.'

'Oh, jolly!' smiled Sybil and turned to welcome the new guest. The Shadow appeared at the door, led by the butler. Susan felt the cold coming at the room, she tried not to shimmer, but she saw something very strange in the party around. They were not shimmering also, they were staring at the tall figure dressed in black, coming nearer. Susan felt the uncomfortable silence and the stares the party turned to her and her companion. She sighed invisibly and stood by the shadow.

'Uncle John, this is Lady Sybil, His Grace Sir Samuel Vimes, their sons Samuel and Frederic, Frederic's wife Alexandra, and this is Theresa, the youngest.'

The shadow stared at her with interest. He didn't know what to do, it was visible. Susan bowed her head, pointing the party with her eyes. The Death's shadow followed her mental lead and bowed politely, pronouncing with difficulty:

'NICE… TO… MEet… You…'

Susan stared at him. She didn't expect him talking. Nine days and nights she had teach him talking, but no success. Until now. And she couldn't miss the change in his voice timbre. She was astonished enough to let herself sit calmly in her chair, staring at his pale face.

The shadow unfixed his eyes from her face and looked at the Vimeses, his face lifted slowly in a polite smile and he bowed again, this time with less tense.

'I HAve… Heard… so many… things… about you… all…' he said slowly, still looking at the family. 'Susan had told me… a lot…' he stared at his companion. '…many polite… words…'

'Yes' sighed Lady Sybil, 'Such a loss for us all… Poor Susan…'

The shadow bowed gently and looked at Susan again. 'We have… to go… Susan' he pronounced calmly. 'We have a job… to do.'

'So soon?' jumped Lady Sybil.

'I'm sorry, Lady Sybil, but duty calls' answered Susan, looking at her direction. 'I was just coming by and I thought I should have welcome you. I'm sorry.'

Lady Sybil smiled and turned her face to her husband. 'We will have a party on Friday. Please, do come, dear. Starting at nine. Would you?'

Susan smiled nervously.

'And bring your uncle, dear. We would be glad to see you again. This time for longer.'

Susan smiled again and turned to the exit, followed by the shadow. When the front door closed behind them, Samuel Vimes stared at his wife, she stared him back and smiled. Then he looked at his eldest son and pronounced thoughtfully.

'Sam, do me the favour and check the assassins list for me.'

Sam Jr. nodded respectfully.

'Did you remember him good enough?' sighed Samuel Vimes. His younger copy squeezed his eyes and nodded again.

---

Susan looked at the shadow, he looked at her back.

The young woman took the hourglass and stared it again. She squeezed her eyes. She had to do Sir Samuel tonight. The ball evening… What would happen next? What would Lady Sybil feel knowing her husband was dead…?

John stared at her, he didn't have all of Death's perceptions, although he could read minds sometimes. When he red Susan's thoughts, he lifted his hands, putting them on his waist and whispered:

'SUSAN, YOU DON'T HAVE TO…'

She looked at him. He cleared his throat desperately.

'I COULD DO IT FOR YOU, IF YOU WISH…'

Susan shook her head, letting him know there will be no replacement this time. The shadow of Death sighed deeply and followed her out of the boarding house.

---------------

Next to come: Chapter 4 where Susan makes her hard decision.

Review, please, I need to know if you like the story. Isn't it too dark?


	4. Chapter 4: Grandfather will kill me

A friend gave me this idea. I thought I would press Susan to chose, but I believe it's better that way.

Thank you, Anton.

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**I want to see the sky from above**

**Chapter 4: Grandfather will kill me **

Sir Samuel Vimes stood at the door, welcoming his guests. Lady Sybil was at his left, smiling happily, nodding, greeting and pressing hands. Susan and John stepped inside. Samuel Vimes Jr. stared at their direction. Susan caught his stare and stared back. He made a gentle bow at her and continued talking to his encirclement.

'Susan, so nice to see you' welcomed Lady Sybil and pulled her to her tide hug. 'I see you have brought your uncle with you. Welcome, sir.' The shadow bowed politely. 'I guess you would find our little assembly quite irritating,' continued Sybil, leading Susan to the crowd. 'Your mother always used to say these kind of social gatherings were boring, so common with my Sam. That girl was such a wag.' She glanced at her face. 'I guess you were educated better than she was, I mean with a better respect to the higher class.' She spat the word with a gloom but soon smiled again. 'Please come here, you have to dance to my sons, definitely dance with my sons. Sam doesn't have company again.' she sighed deeply. 'Such a waist he is, never bring a lady, I don't know who is he after. Here, dear, I see you have your mother's clothing style. I still can't figure out why did she like the black so much. I see it's inheritable. Come, have a seat, now you have to tell me everything about yourself. Where were you born, who your father was. Tell me all, I have time to listen.'

Susan stared at Lady Sybil's questionable eyes and tried to smile, but the hourglass in John's pocket oppressed her enough to pronounce nothing. Sybil was jolly as ever, Susan couldn't imagine her reaction after her job done. She tried to hold her strive to escape, although her feet were trembling already. Lady Sybil fixed her gaze. 'Are you all right, dear?' Susan blinked in reply and opened her mouth.

'Miss Stow!'

Susan turned to the direction the voice came from. The old man stepped at her site and bowed politely. 'I heard you are Her Ladyship's daughter. I am not in a doubt, the similarity is spectacular. Such a surprise, indeed.'

Susan tried to recall his face. He kneeled at her and lifted her hand for an obedient kiss. 'My mistress's daughter. Sto Helit is saved at last!'

Susan stared at him. There was a hint in him she could recall, it was very long time ago, she was still a child, but still…

'Chancellor Bushmaster!' she pronounced. He smiled happily. 'Your Grace!' he lifted her hand to his forehead. 'I just found out about your parents death. Such tragedy! Sto Helit will be mourning for weeks.' His eyes watered. Susan felt his passion on her pressed fingers. He swallowed his tears and smiled again. 'When would you come back, Your Ladyship? Your country needs you desperately. Sto Helit was without a ruler for too long time. Your destiny is to rule, remember your parents, your mother had the bounded duty, but she preferred the civil life, I hope you would reconsider coming back soon, Your Grace?'

Susan stared at him. That was too much. Death's deputy and now Sto Helit's ruler. She remembered why she was escaping this meeting forever. She sighed deeply. 'I will think about it' she pronounced.

'Please, do, Your Ladyship. Please, do.'

The man stood at her behind, taking his military pose, declaring to anyone's eyes he was not going anywhere else. The country was headless too long, it needed its duchess, its head. And he was a part of that country, ruling Sto Helit too long, without expressing how difficult this job was, how terrified he was.

Susan looked up at his smiling face and sighed again. That's it. She was hiding too long, shirking her duty. Now the man found her and he declared he wouldn't go anywhere without her. Now she had to find the fastest way to escape him again.

Lady Sybil looked at Susan's bored eyes and tapped her hand. The music filled the hall, she stood up and took Susan's hand, leading her without explanation. They crossed the dance floor, directing to a small group of people, gathered at a separate corner. Samuel Jr. looked at them coming closer and interrupted his long conversation.

'Mother?' he pronounced questionably. Lady Sybil dragged Susan's hand and put it in his. 'Dance!' she ordered. The Head Assassin stared at her, than he moved his stare at Susan's face and sighed deeply.

'May I ask for your hand to dance, miss Stow?'

Susan tried to answer, but Lady Sybil was too fast.

'Of course, dear, she wants to dance with you.' She pushed them both to the dancing floor, watching their uncomfortable reaction to each other. He lifted her hand to his shoulder and put his hand on her waist.

'I am truly sorry for my mother's behaviour, miss Stow,' he said when they started dancing. 'I don't know what to say.' He blushed. Susan blushed too. Her scar whitened on her left cheek. He looked at her and smiled. 'You look so much as your mother' he smiled. 'Unbelievable likeness, indeed.' She sighed, watching the other couples dancing. She had her attention gone. She had other problems in her head. Samuel Vimes Sr. was standing at the other end of the hall, watching at the dancing couples with interest. He smiled at her from distance and waived his hand.

Sam Jr. observed Susan's face with interest. She looked embarrassed, it was obvious she wasn't having fun. He was under his parent's influence for too long time, especially his mother's. She made him understand she would find him a good party, but he had stated at her knowledge he would prefer to keep his bachelor's statute. Nevertheless, Lady Sybil was pushing him in this or other lady's hands, his meaning was not good enough for her.

He was alone for so much time, his profession was not quite likeable, he believed that no lady would prefer to bound her life with the President of the Assassin's Guild. But it was his only opinion. He was under the impression the ladies his mother acquaintanced with him were mad. They stated in their behaviour he would be their preferable company, they made him understand they would do anything to get him. Alive. He preferred to be dead, before bounding his fate with some of them.

He looked at Susan. She was scared. He thought he knew why was she scared. Dancing with the Head Assassin was not easy, as he demanded in his heavy thoughts.

'Are you all right, miss Stow?' asked Sam Jr. fixing his eyes at her irritated face. She startled and looked at him. 'Yes, thank you, I am fine.' She stared at the same direction again. 'You don't look fine to me' said Sam. 'Do you need to seat, or maybe you need to eat something? You look skinny.'

Susan startled again. She looked at him with a lack of understanding. Her face reddened. 'Do I… look skinny?' she pronounced hardly.

'Yes, you do.' answered Sam Jr. still gazing at her. 'You look like you haven't eat and sleep for ages.'

She looked at herself. Yes, she must have lost weight, because her old dresses were hanging over her body as sand sacks. She barely found a proper dress for the ball. Black again. She hadn't ware anything colourful since she left the Quirm lady's school. When she went to live in Ankh-Morpork the black was the preferable colour because of the street's mud and dirt. When afterwards she became Death's granddaughter she was accustomed with her grandparent's colour. After that she couldn't imagine wearing anything different.

She smiled at his face.

'Maybe it would be better if I eat something then.'

He beamed in reply and led her to the food tables. Susan toured her eyes to see where Sam Sr. was. Then she looked for the shadow. He was standing at the opposite corner, leaning at the wall, watching at the crowd with interest and inspiration.

Sam Jr. followed her stare and cleared his throat.

'How long does your uncle practice the profession?'

She fixed her eyes in his. Then she lowered her stare.

'Since…' she cleared her throat. '…his birth, I guess.'

Sam Jr. nodded thoughtfully. 'But not here, in the city?'

'As far as I know he has been everywhere, I don't doubt he was doing his… job here.'

The Head Assassin sighed. 'Where is he from, if I may ask?'

Susan stared at him. 'Why don't you ask himself?' she pronounced with irritation and pointed. 'He is over there.'

Sam Jr. smiled nervously. 'I am sorry. You might think I am too devoted to my job…'

Susan sighed and shook her head. 'I do understand you. I am sorry for my behaviour.' She downed her head. 'I am not accustomed with the social gatherings, I believe my place is not here. My mother would turn round into her grave if she could see me acting as a full idiot. I guess I should explain why…'

'It's not necessary' answered Sam, still gazing at her. 'I am also a man without much experience in the social meetings. Although the Head Assassin should be much more accustomed with that stuff, you know…'

She lifted her face and smiled. 'You look so much as your father.' He looked at her and smiled. 'How do you know?' Then he laughed understandingly. 'I guess you have seen some of my father's old iconographs. Yes, I have been told I look like my father in his younger years. Thank you for being so observant.'

Susan smiled happily. Only if he could know…

'Have you finished with your sandwich?' asked Sam Jr. 'I still want to dance with you. But this time we might even talk.' He smiled at her, she replied with a nod, then took her hand and led her to the dancing floor.

---

The main room in the Big Temple at Cory Selesty was crowded. The gods were smirking around their preferable playing ground, watching at the small figures on the round table.

Great Yo hit his sceptre to the floor, establishing order among the inhabitants of the god's peak. Om smiled at his sleeve, looking at the Fate's dark eyeholes.

'_Can we bet already_?' sniffed Offler, staring at the throne. Yo sighed with boredom.

'_Alright. Make Your Bets_.'

'_Hundred for_…'

'_Not That Fast_!' Great Yo hit the floor again. '_Let Us This Time Do It The Proper Way_.'

'_What froffer way_?' sniffed Offler again, wiping off his huge crocodile nose.

'_Those Who Thing Susan Would Do It To Stand At Left. The Other To Stand Right. That Proper Way. And This Time No Money, No Souls, No Fates. Do I Make Myself Clear_?'

'_Yes, Great Yo.'_

'_Yes, Yo.'_

'_Right, Yo.'_

'_Those Who Win Will…'_

'WHERE DO THOSE WHO DON'T WANT TO BET, STAY?' asked a voice.

Yo stared at the direction where Death was and sighed.

'_They Sit By My Site. Go On, Make The Lines.'_

---

'And then I was summoned to do my duty' said Sam Jr. 'Dad was so irritated, you know how he hates the assassins. I guess a man being contracted so many times, would hate the guild so much. But it was not my decision to go to the Assassin's school. I can't be blamed I am so much after my father. After all being Samuel Vimes's son is not easy. You know, people look at you with different eyes. I guess it was my fate.'

'Do you like your job?' asked Susan, staring at him.

He downed his face to her and whispered: 'Honestly…' He led her away from the chairs they were threatened to strike into. 'Well… I must confess, I didn't like it in the beginning. You know, all those administrative nonsense, the meetings and the idiots that contract their best friends and family members… But I must confess now that… I like it. Because I feel I'm good at it.'

'I'm glad to hear that' smiled Susan and looked aside. They were dancing the last several hours. The couples changed, the music changed, even the musicians changed couple of times, but they talked so enthusiastic, they didn't noticed anything at all. Even the music tempo. Susan must confess, she used to like dancing with young Sam. She liked talking with him, he was such a pleasant company. She didn't remember when did she have so much fun. He could talk the way that made her listen. And he didn't questioned about anything she didn't want to talk about.

No one of them noticed the hall's emptiness, the music had lowered slightly, and when they both lend their ears they heard nothing but a single violin, playing in the distance corner. They stared at each other and giggled. How much time had passed? It was already dark, the hall was empty.

Susan detached from his hold and stared at him. 'Its so late, I didn't notice. Did you?'

He smiled at her and reached to hold her for a final dance. Susan looked at the empty hall and whitened. 'Oh, dear!'

Sam stared at her nervous face. 'Is there something wrong?'

She sighed deeply. 'My god! What did I do?' Then she run to the exit.

'What's wrong, miss Stow?' he followed her rapid retraction. 'Did I do anything wrong?'

She jumped out of the gate and rushed off his hold. Scoon Avenue was dark, she didn't notice the time passing. She was pale, angry at her self. How could I be such an idiot? How could I be such a cow? Oh, dear!

John was waiting at her at the end of the street, she rushed at his hold and cried, pushing him back. 'Is he dead? Did you do him? John, answer me! DID YOU DO HIM?'

John shook his head. NO, SUSAN. DON'T YOU REMEMBER?

'Remember what?'

She gazed at him for long time. He didn't do Sir Samuel. But Susan also didn't do him. Than if he is dead, who did… If he is dead…

She shimmered. She could recall something. Yes, she could remember. She remem…

'Oh, gods!' cried Susan and took her head into her palms. There was a moment she didn't know how much time ago. She could recall it somehow. They were dancing and talking. Sam was telling her what had happened with the Seamstresses Guild some years ago. The complot against Mrs. Palm was quite interesting chat topic. The measures the Head Seamstress did were spectacular. They were so concentrated in their conversation, they were laughing with such satisfaction. When Susan felt the tap on her shoulder and turned around to see John's pale face and his hand ready to take hers, she did something…

She just wanted to get rid of John. The company she had was too interesting, she didn't want to be interrupted at that point. She…

'Oh, Gods! John, why didn't you stop me?'

The shadow looked at her and lifted his shoulders.

'I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO DO THIS.'

'For Gods sake, WHY DIDN'T YOU STOP ME?'

She thrust her trembling hand into his pocket and extracted the hourglass. She remembered it now. She did something she would never do if she was sane enough. She… she wanted to get rid of John and his demanding hands and what she did was to… When he handed her the hourglass, she… turned it upside down.

She put her face in her palms and cried. Her shoulders were trembling. John came to hug her. She cried deeply in his hold.

'Grandfather will kill me… Oh, gods, he will kill me!'

She repulsed from his hold and made a step back. John gazed at her with interest.

She was laughing.

---

I hope you like it this way. Review if you need to tell me something. Critics are welcome, as always.


	5. Chapter 5: The dinner

_This is written by request of someone. And there is the answer of a question. I hope you would like it._

**I want to see the sky from above**

**Chapter 5: The dinner**

The Shadow stood behind the door, when someone knocked on it. Susan sighed hostily and shouted fretfully: 'Yes?' The door opened and the landlady entered worriedly, stepping slowly and delicately into the interior of the room.

'I'm sorry, Your Highness' said miss Rose, starting a silly uncouth curtsey. 'There is a man on the main door… he says he wants your short audience…'

Susan sighed with boredom. Since last night she had become everyone's attention, gossiped here and there. This morning she had two meetings with people she had never even heard of, but being such 'high ranking aristocrat' and especially the heir of Sto Helit, that was too much. Chancellor Bushmaster was a man with high spirit and quite committed desire to saddle someone else with the task taking his time too long. When he discovered Susan's appearance into the real world, he thought it would be the perfect solution of his problems. If she wants or not – that was something particularly not attaching his mind. Who cares what one wants, if there is a possibility to get rid of something you don't like doing any more and desire stay behind and enjoy the view?...

The worst was that Chancellor Bushmaster went too far. He transmitted his engagements to Susan, and left the city early in the morning. What Susan received from him was a big pile of files and papers, a bag with diplomatic mailings, some specially sealed letters with instructions, the tiny key for his secret safe in the Embassy and two stocky guys at her boarding house door. The landlady was in rage, but soon the merchant spoke in her head and she understood it was much better for her the situation to remain the same. She even willingly ceded her own study for her special needs, encouraging her to move there and proceed with the papers and whatever she was doing there, turning herself into some kind of a personal secretary. After all, soon her boarding house would be quite more famous throughout the city, as the personal residence of Sto Helit's duchess. She could already taste the money deluge coming into her pockets.

'Shall I let him in?' asked miss Rose and bowed gently, turning her look down. Susan sighed again and rounded her eyes.

'Yes, please, miss Rose. Thank you for the support.'

The landlady smiled nervously and curtseyed clumsy. 'It's my pleasure, Your Highness. By the way, the ambassador of Lanker is waiting too, Your Highness.' answered the young woman and started exiting. 'It's Your Grace, miss Rose' said Susan, hiding her anger. 'not Your Highness. I'm not a princess or something like this. Yet.'

'Yes, Your Highness' answered miss Rose and curtseyed again, closing the door at her face. The shadow moved to Susan's desk and stared at her, questioning with no words. Susan arched her eyebrows and sighed deeply. John nodded quietly and stood at her back, before the door of the study opened again. A black dressed young man entered, stood at her front and bowed politely. The flower bucket in his hands laid the desk's top. He gave the letter to the lifted hand of John.

'My master wishes to congratulate you for your new statute, Your Ladyship. He would like to invite you at a dinner, if you have no other plans for the evening, Your Grace.'

Susan took the letter from John's hand and cracked the seal, already reading. The man at her front nervously cleared his throat.

'My master would like to receive your answer as soon as possible, Your Grace' continued the Assassin. 'His Lordship would be pleased if you do.'

Susan red the paper for second time. It was short, quite polite and had no word for the marvellous evening they had spend together. She hesitated to answer with 'No', but something inside her made her nod and say 'Yes, I would be honoured.'

The assassin bowed politely and smiled, before exiting. Susan stared at John, he stared at her back and pronounced calmly: ARE YOU SURE, SUSAN?

She had the same question in her head. To be sure? How the hell could she be sure? Going on bachelors premises in the evening… How to be sure? Why would he like to dinner with her? Share another secret? Tell her something else about the recent changes in Ankh-Morpork? Reminding her how much had she lost, while she was separated from her life, while being in her forced exile from everything she knew and… loved? But the truth was that she really wanted to see him again.

She sighed and looked at the book in her hands. It was a middle class history study book, included the last fifty years period. It was quite boring, most of the things she knew already, but there were several points she could never accept if she didn't have an officially written governmental school book in her hands.

Yes, she knew about Lord Vetinari's retirement. It was not something she wouldn't know, being Death's granddaughter. Few years ago she run into her grandparent exiting, viewing his hourglass in his bony hands. She could imagine what could happen next, but when Death returned from his voyage, there was a strange flame in his eyeholes. The same flames he had, while losing on chess. Susan followed him into the hourglass hall and saw him putting the same hourglass at its recent place. When he passed her at the exit, he lifted his shoulders and said nothing. There was no need. Susan remembered how long she laughed that evening. Death closed himself in his study for some time. When he returned the next evening, he asked Susan if she would join him for a chess party. This time he won. He was a very good student after all.

The next she didn't know was who took the vacant position of a leading person in the city. When she red the name, she laughed silently. It was something she would never suspect. There must be something very wrong about the city in the recent days, because Captain Carrot was strictly clear about a future political career. She knew him well, and she knew Angua too. She couldn't imagine Captain Carrot as a Patrician, but she couldn't imagine Angua as Patrician's _girlfriend_. She wouldn't be anybody's wife, if she could prevent it, and that was what she did.

The next she didn't know was the second war with Klatch. It was much more apolitical than before, it took some weeks to establish some kind of agreement between Ankh-Morpork and Klach's emperor, before Sir Samuel got angry enough to go into some strategic steps, breaking into the dusty klatchian night, arresting the emperor in his own tent and manifesting in his mind that if he ever try to do any actions against _his town_, he would gladly imprison him personally into the Watch dungeon and throw away the key into the first sewer hole. The Klach's emperor had to admit something very important: Samuel Vimes was a man he should never joke with. He was too unpredictable, too dangerous and too far from manipulative to deal with. As no much cops he knew. The war ended as it began – with a lot of noise and no explanation why and who.

Some hours later Susan was too tired to do anything else. She stood up from her chair and dragged to the study window, trying to clear her mind from everything she had to go through today. At first place, it was Chancellor's 'gift', then all her duties she used to escape from, Lady Sybil's visiting and her _special_ smile dragging into Susan's brain and now that. She coughed her self thinking about the dinner at the Assassins Guild. It made her shimmer as never before. When Susan lifted her head, she saw John looking at her. He had no expression on his face. He thrust into his pocket and produced an hourglass from there. Susan sighed tiredly and leaned on the desk, wailing with boredom and fatigue. She looked at John, rounded her eyes and tried to get rid of the tiredness and every thought coming with it into her mind. She lifted her hand and put it into John's.

---

The Assassins Guild was a large wide building in a specific gothic style, facing a crowdie street. The carriage stopped at its main gate, two husky lads jumped from the driving box, observed the perimeter, stopping anyone coming too near, making a small throng of morporkians, peeping what is going on. Susan stepped out of the carriage, made a disgusted look at her guards and let them knock on the gate.

The gate man stared at her and nodded quietly, opening the door for Her Grace the Duchess of Sto Helit. Susan rounded her eyes, letting the man lead her up the stairs. She turned back to see if John followed, but he stood in the middle of a small group of assassins, giggling and picking his clothes. He looked at her questionably, receiving nothing but arched eyebrow, and stood where he was. The gate man led her through the corridor, filled with any sort and measure assassins, observing her irritated movement with interest. Susan was tired enough to let their attention unpunished. The guards following her let them know what would follow if they don't disperse. The observers obeyed quietly, still keeping their smiles on their faces.

The President's premises were at the end of the corridor on the first main floor, taking a huge and quite classical well-appointed place. The gate heading its pass was solid and dark as everything around. Someone, not knowing where he is, would describe the place as a gentleman's club, quite cosy and tastily furnished. Susan nodded to her guards while they took their positions at the gate. There was a man at the Head Assassin's premises, the same man Susan met at her study in the morning. He bowed politely and entered into the huge office, quietly leading Susan to the next room, where his master was.

Susan didn't expect him dressed so ordinary. While he was a boy, he used to dress as an assassin. Even when his mother urged him to join her shopping tours, he preferred such clothes. His taste was quite strict and unchangeable. When Susan danced with him on the Vimes-Ramkin ball, he was the absolute personification of assassin. What Susan saw here in his cosy parlour, was quite different than everything she knew and expected about him. He wore grey trousers, grey shirt and dark green jacket. Susan had to admit he had style after all.

'Welcome, miss Stow.' Samuel Jr. made a small step to her, but stopped his pace. He looked at her eyes and made a small step at her direction, already reaching for her hand. 'Have you slept well, Your Grace?' Susan looked at him, lifting his lips from her hand. She nodded quietly.

'Yes, thank you. I could sleep this night.'

He winkled his eyebrows. 'It sounded like you don't sleep at all.'

She sighed in reply. 'It happens sometimes, but rarely in the last few weeks, thank you for your care.' She stared with misunderstanding and rounded her eyes. The Head Assassin gazed at her face for long time, then he walked her in and closed the door in his secretary's face. He led Susan to the cosy armchair at the middle of the room, close to the heather. She sat there, observing his quiet settlement at the armchair opposing hers. He had a face, like he would like to say something, but hesitated because of the many questions and prejudices it would bring afterwards. Susan sighed quietly.

'I am sorry for my fast desertion last evening.' she said, looking at his anxious face, then she stared down at her fingers, picking at her black cotton dress. 'I had very important work to do and if I wouldn't have danced with you I would have done it.' She looked at him again. He was glancing at her with misbelieve, but still some kind of admiration. 'I do apologise, I had to…'

'It doesn't matter, miss Stow' said Samuel Jr. in a hurry. 'I thought I would have to explain why I brought you here this evening.' He started playing with his fat black cat, spreading on his lap. He had a face that showed his hesitation in pronouncing the words with slow and desperate continuation. 'The first reason is to be sure you are feeling fine. I have to admit I feel I have to follow your health condition closely.' He cleared his throat and looked at her. 'Last night you looked so tired and sleepless, and starving… I know this is a stupid thing to do, but I can't stop it. You may think I am a man with too much interest in theme and place I have no right to penetrate, but I am a true descendant of my father and I do say what is in my mind and on my heart.' He gazed at her, taking breath from his fast statement. She was looking at him with interest. 'The second thing I invited you here is because I had to tell you that your uncle's appearance in the city brings many questions I would like to ask if there is no problem for that and because I am an honest man I would like to inform you about my interest in your relative. I believe he has to present himself in the guild if he has some business to do, so I would like to invite him to do so through you. And thirdly…'

Susan rounded her eyes with boredom. Sam Vimes Jr. stared at her empty look and stopped his rapid tirade.

'Are we going to have a dinner?' asked Susan, still fixing her eyes in his direction. The Head Assassin sighed slowly and stood up from his seat, rushing for her hand. She accepted his help with a smile and followed him to the wide open door where the servants finished their tasks. Sam Vimes led her to her place, waited until she settled and sat at her left, on his usual place. Susan sighed deeply.

'Thank you for the invitation, sir.' she said, after taking some salad from the dish the servant presented at her reach. 'I don't remember how long haven't I taken such kind invitation before.'

He remained silent.

'And thank you for being such skilful dancer, sir.' she continued. 'I haven't dance for many years. Not with such passion and desire.'

She looked at him, knowing already she had told too much, biting her cheeks from inside. He was pale, trying to avoid her eyes. She sighed deeply and put her attention into her dish. The servants returned with the next meal, then with the next and finally with the desert. They barely spoke while dining, everyone of them was too confused to say anything at all. Samuel Vimes Jr. was still silent, sometimes he stared at her, sometimes he tried to transfer his stare somewhere else, but still looking at her – through the reflection on the glasses, the salvers on the tables nearby, the mirror at the end of the dining room . Susan felt there was something wrong here. She hoped the evening would finish sooner, she felt the uneasiness coming into her like a tired deluge, she tried to press her stare somewhere she could train her eyelids not to fall. She was quite tired and the process of food destruction with the quiet Mr. Head Assassin made her yawn. He was such interesting interlocutor last night. What happened? Where did the yesterday Sam Jr. go? Who that man here was?

She yawned visibly, giving Samuel Jr. know he had come too far. No lady ever yawned at his presence. He was too skilled to let it happen. The truth was that Samuel Vimes Jr., the President of the Assassins Guild in Ankh-Morpork, was in a rare position to speak, but his lips now were sealed. He never had such unknown interlocutor before. Her Ladyship was an interesting subject, he should admit she was a rare find, a lady with style and a head. He didn't know her for log time, but she looked and felt so familiar. He felt he had never been away from her. That puzzled him. That made his mouth shut. After her rapid detraction last night he felt there was something wrong with his life, with himself. When he returned home, he opened the wardrobe to hang up his clothes and what he saw made him shimmer. There was darkness, shadows, silhouettes, nothing more, nothing less. Early in the morning he went shopping. These were his first coloured clothes since his tenth birthday. He felt some kind… different, but quite satisfied when he saw her eyes, looking at him this evening.

Susan was fighting with her sleep, picking her spoon into the ice-cream the servant brought them both. She leaned on her chair, putting her head on her raised hand, resit against the chair's arm. Sam Jr. observed her playing with the ice-cream and smiled. She was not anxious at all. She must have come here just from a curiosity to know what would happen. After all, he hadn't invite a lady for a dinner from… Well… from never. Especially in his premises, where he usually accepted his mistresses, coming through the secret back entrance known for the Head Assassins only. Miss Susan Stow was a lady. She was even something more: she was a duchess, the mistress of Sto Helit. And nevertheless she would have to think about her reputation, she came here. In a bachelor's premises. And what was he given her? A time to be bored, an occasion to yawn. He looked at her. She was blinking heavily, her head leaning on her palm heavier than before.

'Would you like some tea, miss Stow?' asked Sam Jr. looking at her. She startled and stared at him, nodding. 'Yes, I would like some nice hot tea. Thank you.'

Sam Vimes Jr. stood up and reached for her hand. She followed him calmly into the drawing room, resit serenely in her armchair and stared at the fire in the heather. The Head Assassin followed her eyes and sighed deeply. She burst into his eyes, questionably. He cleared his throat.

'Have you thought about my question?' asked the man, correcting himself rapidly. 'The second one, I mean. About your uncle.'

She rounded her eyes.

'Why don't you ask him about that? After all I'm not his baby-sitter.'

He smiled and stared at her fingers, picking on the chair's moss.

'I would, of course, but I preferred to ask you first. I thought your uncle would listen your advice better than mine. After all I'm the President of the Assassins, but you are related with him.'

'A strange way of thought, I admit, sir.' said Susan and looked at the flames fixedly. 'Is this the reason to have me here?' She stared at him. He stared back with pale face. 'Why _exactly_ did you bring me here?'

Sam Jr. hesitated to answer. She rounded her eyes, leaning closer to him.

'You were interested last night, weren't you?'

'Interested in what?' he blinked nervously.

'In me.' answered Susan. He coughed anxiously, then he blinked some more and in seconds time, answered, staring at her.

'Yes.'

'And now…' said Susan, looking at the flames again. '…you want to… sleep with me?'

He should lean on the table at his back to prevent his collapse on the floor. She looked at him from down to up and followed, tiredly: 'I don't have anything on mind against it.'

He stared at her from above and made a step aside, to the booming heather, illuminating the room with its special radiation. He had to admit he didn't expect it. He had a long time to think, before answering.

'I…' he cleared his throat. 'I must admit you hit the bull's eye, miss Stow.' He turned to her with genuine eyes. 'I am a man known for saying what I am feeling… I know what you think now.' he said, looking back at the flames. 'A man too devoted to his job, doesn't have time to make any special contacts, a man accustomed with the fast relations, looking at today, but not tomorrow. You might be right, I am such man, but I never thought I could ever feel such… Before you said you are not against out gathering as… lovers… I thought you would never accept such treaty with a man such below your rang…'

She sighed with boredom, rounded her eyes and stood up. 'If you believe so, than you expect I would decline to make love with you. I don't believe you know me too, sir, but I am also known for my big mouth. Maybe you are right about many things, but what you stated just now, about the rang thing… This insults me. I was educated differently. No one is lower than me in my mind. Yes, I am a god damn duchess, but I am also a woman and as such I could make love with whom I want, and I thought I would have… experienced something very special with you, the same passionate desire what I experienced last night while we were dancing.' She moved her eyes down, playing with the special carpet at the heather. She whispered: 'I have no much time left. You choose.'

He stared at her reddening face, the rage and the shyness suited her, she was so beautiful, while her eyes sparkled in anger, her waist, her thighs shimmered, her breasts jumped while she was breathing and waiving her arms. And still she remained so gentle, he couldn't even think touching her frightened that he could break her apart. He jumped from his place by the heather and grabbed her in his arms, kissing her neck in breathless passion. She put her arms around his neck and let his lips go further, leaning over her, unbuttoning her dress top, lifting her cotton skirt, embracing her naked thighs, lifting and letting them round his waist. He lifted his lips to her mouth and pressed them in a deep kiss. She murmured, letting him pull her down, leaning over the bear's hide, carpeting the floor. She cried when he found his way into her, he looked at her scarely, but her eyes made him proceed. She unbuttoned his shirt, pulling and tearing his buttons, his collar, the fabric, sinking her teeth into his skin, clawing his naked back, while he was moving faster and faster, groaning and yelling her name. She shimmered when he ended, putting his forehead on her naked breasts, still whispering her name, kissing her skin, touching her everywhere he could reach. He rolled out of her body breathless and closed his eyes for a second, then he looked at her. She was staring at the ceiling, watching the flames reflections playing with the darkness of the room. She stretched her clothes, moved up and stood slightly dizzy, buttoning her dress top.

Sam Jr. stared at her with interest, rolling to see what she was doing. He pulled her skirt down. She looked at him and avoided his eyes. She had tears in her eyes, repeating in her mind: 'What have I done? What have I done?!!' She turned her back to his body leaning in her feet, trying to swallow what had left from her self-respect. Making love with… Young Sam. The boy she knew twenty years ago… What a shame. What would his mother say?

Oh, gods, remembered Susan. Twenty years ago… He was a boy in her memories, but now he was a man. The man she just made love with. A man that made her _feel_. At last. She had forget that feeling. Twenty years… Even Lobsang couldn't make her feel even close than what she was feeling now. While they made love, she tried to remember why was she here and she could admit she started forgetting. He made her forget. He made her feel. He made her want to live again…

'Are you going somewhere?' asked Sam. Susan looked down at his naked body and answered: 'I have to go home.'

He jumped from his place and stood at her front. 'You aren't serious, are you?'

She looked at him tenderly, put a hand on his face and stared at his deep eyes, trying to find herself there. He made a step at her direction, pressed her to his body and put a kiss on her neck. 'I am not letting you go.' he said, caressing her back with his tender fingers. 'I was waiting for you too long.' He tried to slip her on the bear hide again. She murmured and bit his ear with a passion she had never experienced. She removed her hands from her dress front, letting him unbutton her top again, then he lifted her in his hold and took her to his bedroom.

---

The Shadow of Death could hardly rid of his new comrades, letting them drink their precious cognac in the meeting hall, sitting and giggling in front of the huge heather. He felt the dizziness again. That was a sign that he had to find Susan. He could feel the hourglass in his pocket already. He could swear it wasn't there before, but it always happens so. Susan was gone for… some hours. He knew exactly in which direction to go, he could feel her scent everywhere. Even if he was sealed in a chamber deeply under the ground he knew where exactly to face knowing if he dig hard enough he would reach Susan. Or anyone else.

He went out of the main chambers and moved upstairs, following his seventeenth feeling. He went through the walls separated him from his companion, the scent became heavier and somehow… concentrated with some other scent. He walked through the next wall and stopped. He had to stop because he had never seen Susan in someone's bed before. She was calm and silent, although he knew she wasn't sleeping. He made a quiet step at her direction, trying not to scare her. She turned her grim eyes in his direction and shimmered. The Shadow of Death smiled sadly and produced an hourglass from his pocket. Susan looked aside to her sleeping lover and stared at him for very long time. Then she moved up, reaching for her scattered clothes. The Shadow of Death put his eyes aside, while she was dressing up. Then he looked at her, staring at him with her wistful eyes and followed her disappearance, ogling at the naked man at his left.

---

'_That was enough_!' shouted the man at the glass boll, put on the round table. 'What are you trying to do?'

Death lifted his bony shoulders and looked at Lobsang's angry face.

'You promised if she ever goes into this kind of relation…'

I NEVER SAID THIS. Answered Death, staring at Lobsang's reddening face.

'You promised me. When you forbade me visiting her, you said the time will come and I could share my interest with her.'

YES, I REMEMBER WHAT I SAID. BUT YOU ARE GOING TOO FAR, LOBSANG. I NEVER PROMISED YOU ANYTHING ACCORDED SUSAN'S FEELINGS. AND I NEVER SAID ANYTHING ABOUT _THAT_!

The Time's face reddened again. He turned to Death's face and fixed his angry stare where his eyeholes were. 'I shouldn't have listen to you!' He shouted. 'I could have taken this for so many times. But you… _you_ made me calm down. You knew what I feel about her and still let her _go_!'

I CAN'T LET HER STAY, LOBSANG. YOU KNOW EXACTLY _WHY_ I DID IT.

Death looked aside, where Binkey was standing. He turned back to Lobsang and whispered slowly:

YOU STILL HAVE TIME TO DO ANYTHING.

'What?' shouted Lobsang. 'Do _what_? I can't turn what had been _done_, you know I have _no right_ to do it just because I want it.'

YOU ARE TIME, smiled Death. AND I AM DEATH. YOU KNOW WHAT I DO SOMETIMES. IF SOMEONE COULD WIN ON CHESS SESSION I COULD GIVE SOME… DELAY…

'You mean…'

YES. I AM DEATH AND SOON OR LATE EVERYONE SHOULD HAVE TO LOSE. I AM A WINNER, BUT SOMETIMES IN SOME SPECIAL CASES… I HAVE TO _PRETEND_ I COULD LOSE.

He put his hand on Lobsang's shoulder and smiled:

AFTER ALL SHE MADE HER CHOICE, REMEMBER? BY TURNING THE HOURGLASS…

Lobsang stared his astonished eyes in his.

'I thought it was Commander Vimes…'

Death smiled again. THIS IS WHAT EVERYONE THOUGHT. IT OFTEN HAPPENS SO, WHEN THE FATHER AND THE SON HAVE THE SAME NAME. YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS, DO YOU?

He stared at Lobsang.

'They were fated.' Answered the Time.

INDEED. said Death and started to turn. BUT YOU COULD STILL DO SOMETHING. AND YOU _KNOW_ WHAT I MEAN.

Lobsang cleared his throat, staring at Death's direction. The grim bony man nodded and disappeared. The Time smiled for a second, then he looked at the glass boll again.


	6. Chapter 6: Never say Never

_I'm sorry for been so slow in posting, but you know what happens during the holidays. I hope you will enjoy this chapter. Because I did while I was writing it._

_Happy New Year everyone!_

**I want to see the sky from above**

**Chapter 6: Never say Never**

The clerk at the Assassins Registering Office lifted his head to see who was bothering his work for the last few minutes. His eyes fixed at the tall figure standing by his desk.

'May I help you?' he asked. The man at his front nodded. He waited for his explanation for some minutes, then sighed with boredom and put the quill apart.

'Are you here to… register?'

The tall figure looked at the label on his desk and nodded slowly. The clerk observed him from down to up. 'You must be new in the city? I haven't seen you so far.' There was no reply. The clerk rounded his eyes, extracted a paper from a big file and took the quill.

'Name?'

The figure stood silent for a while, until the clerk lifted his head again to stare at his face.

THE SHADOW OF DEATH, said.

The clerk rounded his eyes.

'Not the nick-name, man! I haven't come to it yet. Name. How you are called?'

The shadow blinked for some seconds.

JOHN, he answered.

'Good start. Now the surname, please.'

The shadow blinked some more.

STOW.

'Good, John… Stow… That reminds me something… Never mind. Now. What age are you?'

MY AGE COULD BE COUNTED NOT THAT EASY. IMAGINE THE BIRTH OF THE ELDEST GALAXY, DOUBLE IT AND THEN TRIPLE IT AGAIN. THAT'S MY AGE

'Wag guy. All right, now seriously. How old are you?'

THE UNIVERSE…

'All right' said the clerk, sighing with boredom. 'This is what I'm gonna sign. Doesn't… know… his… age… Well, you look at about forty. Forty… years… Now. Where did you work before?'

AS THE ETERNITY… started John.

'Has… no… experience… in… the… city… At least you look like foreigner. Quirmian. Right?

The shadow didn't answer.

'Right, then. From… Quirm… Now. What kind of work style you prefer? Single or team?'

DEATH HAS NO HELPING HAND, slowly answered the shadow. The clerk rounded his eyes again.

'Single… Now. How many customers have you accomplished? Don't worry counting with fingers. I've seen so many morons, don't bother me at all.'

The shadow knit his eyebrows.

TOO MUCH TO COUNT WITH ANY HAND, YOUNG MAN.

'Clever fellow. More… than… one… And now. Where do you live? I'm not expected to give shelter to every idiot registering here. After all the Guild's building can't enlarge more than it is. Address?'

I DON'T KNOW THE STREET'S NAME, answered the shadow.

'Any way.' sighed the clerk. 'That's enough for now. Now. Go to Mr. Flip, room eighty five, third floor, he will give you a job. Now. Do you have a pin? No? Here. Keep it, I'll charge fifty dollars if you loose it, this is your city card, don't play with it. I know what you all do, betting on dogs. What a shame! The knives…. Here… Warning: they _are_ sharp! I don't fig if you have played with this kind of stuff, but be careful. Dr. Vimes is very idiotic about this stuff nowadays.

DR. VIMES?

'Yeah, the master here. If you know him then you ain't surprised. What a stuff guy. Always keeping us aware. No one knows what will happen next. You know…' The clerk waved his hand and made a face. The shadow looked at his with interest.

I KNOW HIM.

'You do?' The clerk's eyes enlarged.

MY… The shadow cleared his throat. …NIECE KNOWS HIM EVEN BETTER.

'Oh… You are… My _gods_!' The clerk swallowed with difficulty, staring at the figure at his front. He jumped in the air, taking the shadow's hand. 'I'm such an ass. I _knew_ the name is familiar. Forgive me, Milord. I didn't want to offend you.'

He crushed the paper in his hand, shimmering nervously. 'I'll do it as it should be, Milord. Sorry again. I'm such an idiot. His Grace _Lord_ John Stow. The uncle of the Sto Helit duchess! I'm sorry. I hope you wouldn't mention my behaviour when you meet His Lordship?'

MEET?

'Yes, Milord. He warned me about you yesterday. Said when you come to tell him at once. He definitely wants to talk to you. Big contract, eh? Brave fellow you are! Such important man registered _by me_! I'm so _proud_. I've heard so much things about you. May I ask for your autograph, sir? The kid will walk on air if I give him an autograph by _Sir_ John Stow personally. The Shhadow of Deathhh… For _his_ collection, of course. I don't want to bother you but…'

John rounded his eyes and sighed with boredom. He had to use a lot of his special properties to get rid of the man. He went upstairs where the Head Assassin's study was.

---

Susan was in her study in the Embassy. The last few days she had to rethink a lot about moving there. Sam's appearance some nights before was a factor. She was too ashamed by her action in his premises, avoiding his invitations, returning his flowers and letters. When he burst into her room, she was astonished enough to let him make love to her again. It was good, she could confess, but… It had to stop.

She knew the Embassy was a place Sam would never go, she thought he was too well mannered to go to step like that. That's why she finally yielded under the Ambassador's insistences to move there. The Embassy of Sto Helit gave its shelter in time. She had explained enough to the land lady. Duty calls, she had said, the country needs me, she had explained. Miss Rose didn't oppose her. After all she didn't have to return the rent for the next few months. That was enough. What Susan did, was obvious. Miss Rose already had to decline some particular 'individuals' asking for her shelter. Gladly, John preferred to stay in his attics, but Susan knew it wouldn't stop him visiting her at the embassy for the 'duty'.

She had her duties also. The papers in her hands begged for her attention.

'Hallo, John. Did you have fun?' Susan asked, still quilling the papers. She had felt the shadows presence too long to know when he is here.

IT WAS… INTERESTING, answered the shadow, coming closer. BEST REGARDS FROM DR. VIMES.

'Ah, I see you have met him.' said Susan, still writing. The shadow came even closer.

HE ASKED ABOUT YOU. WHY YOU MOVED TO THE EMBASSY, MAINLY.

'And you told him that I have a lot of job to do?' asked Susan.

YES.

'And he told you that he wants to invite me to a dinner again?'

YES.

'Did you tell him I have no time for this any more?'

I DID, answered the shadow. HE ASKED ME IF I COULD PASS YOU A LETTER FROM HIM.

Susan didn't answer.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO READ IT?

Susan continued writing.

OR MAYBE I SHOULD THROW IT IN THE FIRE AS THE REST OF HIS LETTERS?

Silence.

WELL, THEN.

The flames swallowed the paper. Susan stopped quilling for a second, listening for the crack in the mantle-piece. The shadow sighed while coming at her back. He lowered down to whisper at her ear:

HE GAVE ME A CONTRACT.

Susan continued writing, then she smiled nervously and burst into laughter.

'He did _what_?'

The shadow walked around her, stopping in front of her desk. He extracted a paper from his pocket and read it.

LORD CRIMPY SNIFFLER. SEVENTY NINE YEARS OLD. HIS ELDEST SON WANTS TO INVEST IN SOME KIND OF MERCHANDISE, BUT 'THE BIG PAPA' IS… LET ME REMEMBER HOW IT WAS… 'AS STUBBORN AS A MULE'.

Susan stared at him, wiping her eyes.

'Is his time come? You _know_ what the assassins do, don't you?'

THEY INHUME, answered John. WHATEVER IT MEANS. AND YES, HIS TIME WILL COME THIS EVENING, NINETEEN MINUTES BEFORE MIDNIGHT.

He extracted the hourglass from his robe and stared there.

YOUR FELLOW TOLD ME HE IS A BAD CUSTOMER. TEN YEARS UNSUCCESSFULLY. WHATEVER THAT MEANS.

Susan rounded her eyes. 'He is _not_ my fellow!'

Then she sighed deeply.

'And you are going to…' Susan smiled. '…_inhume_ him tonight?'

NO, SUSAN, answered the shadow. YOU KNOW I CAN NOT PARTICIPATE IN ANY PHYSICAL SLAUGHTER. I… WE WILL BE THERE WHEN HE DIES IN _HEART_ ATTACK.

Susan smiled tiredly. 'I can't do it tonight, John.' she said. 'The Ambassador gives a dinner in my honour.' She puffed with boredom, imagining what she had to pass through. 'You know, duty calls… Again…' She sighed nervously, staring at his face. 'You have to do it yourself, John. Could you?'

She glanced at him for a while, then steeped the quill to the ink pot.

ARE YOU SURE, SUSAN? Asked the shadow. Susan didn't answer. I COULD DO IT. OF COURSE. BUT THE LAST FEW WEEKS _YOU_ INSISTED TO DO IT, SO I THOUGHT YOU WOULD CONTINUE… DOESN'T MATTER.

He moved to the exit, stopped and stared at her.

HE WILL BE AT THE DINNER, YOU KNOW…

Susan didn't answer. She didn't even blink. He kept looking at her writing for some time, then he silently disappeared. Susan lifted her head, fixing her eyes at the place he used to stand and tried to calm herself. She had to wait for some minutes until her hand stopped shimmering. She took another (not spotty) paper and started writing again.

---

The embassy of Sto Helit was one of the smallest diplomatic missions in Ankh-Morpork, but it had facilities big enough for a middle gatherings. The ambassador Steward Cunning was a smiling middle aged man, very polite and gentle interlocutor. Susan used to like him, he was not too pushy, never wanted too much from her, didn't bother her with his attention and used to say what was on his heart. Susan liked that. It was not the best quality for a politician, but he used to be a diplomat for too long, knowing when to speak and when to lie. It was a quality she estimated as one of the most important things she hadn't inherit from her parents. Thanks gods her father was _her_ father. If she wasn't his daughter, he would gladly order her imprisonment in the highest tower of the Hell's prison. He thought she would gather some respect from his threats, but Susan was there some more times by herself and she gladly confessed she liked it. Dark enough for Death's granddaughter. The duke of Sto Helit was in shock. If even the Bat's tower couldn't impress his daughter, than what?

The ambassador's wife was a lady with higher spirit and a big mouth. Susan knew she had to be very careful with Lady Isabel, spelled as the spiciest gossiper in Ankh-Morpork. Each and every man and woman had to be very cautious when connecting with her. She had eagle eyes and rabbit ears. Whatever happens to the city she was the person knowing it first. Susan laughed a lot when she had to meet her at breakfast. How could someone know so many things for a night only…?

'Your Grace, you wear your _glamorous_ silk dress? Again?' said Lady Isabel, smiling at her coming through the corridor. The noblewomen rounding her smiled nervously. 'Why not the green taffeta laced gown I saw in your wardrobe? I believe it would suit you better than the darkness you wear each day. Oh, speaking about darkness, do you know who I met this afternoon? Lady Sarah and her daughter. Daughter… Yeah… Everyone know she adopted the poor child, do you know whose child young Barbara is? You can't believe. Her sister's. Yes, Miss Marble's. And _everyone_ knows what she became. A seamstress!. Who knows who the father is. Speaking of fathers. The cook told me just an hour ago that her father had been dismissed. Not because he wasn't doing his job, you know old Mr. Quickpace. His master, _Lord Mudlark_ had _financial_ problems. As no one knows why. Almost broke, you know. Horse bets again. Do you know what he laid down last Friday? The shop on Market street! I can't imagine his gorgeous wife's…'

Susan had to say Lady Isabel was a woman with big mouth indeed. She had to keep all her senses calm, but if she had to do what she wanted, she would gladly brandish the scythe at her face. She had a special technique against Lady Isabel's tirade. She only had to look at her husband.

'May I discuss something very important with Your Grace?' Ambassador Cunning took her arm and led her out of her most undesired company and let her step into her study, knowing she would like to find a nice and mostly, quiet place after meeting Lady Isabel. 'Have you look at the papers I gave you this afternoon, Your Grace?' he asked, while sitting at her front by the hearth.

'Quite interesting research, indeed.' answered Susan, staring at the fire. 'The guilds raise so fast. Why does this happens? I thought Sto Helit was safe away from the menace of the outward world.'

'It is.' answered the ambassador. 'But you know, no one is too far from the world these days. The economic situation changes all the time. Sto Helit had to suffer a lot the previous years, thanks gods the guilds were strong enough to outstand the depression. We had to strike fast and we did, we could react on time. But look at Quirm, their growth decreased so much. The mayor had to resign, the new mayor also. People are not happy with it all. It looks like our days the people look at the outward world after all. Thank gods we were not too blind to see the best and to protect ourselves from the worst.'

Susan smiled and sighed with understanding.

'It looks you had cope with everything. I guess my presence in Sto Helit is not necessary any more.'

The ambassador stared at her with eyes wide open.

'It doesn't mean you wouldn't come back to motherland, does it? I hoped I could convince you to do so, Your Grace.'

Susan sighed and leaned back in her armchair.

'Ambassador Cunning…' she closed her tired eyes. 'If I could choose I would never come back to Sto Helit.'

The man looked at her with misunderstanding. 'Don't say so, Your Ladyship. Please don't frighten me. You are desperately needed there!'

'I am not needed anywhere, ambassador.' answered Susan still eyes closed.

'You are joking with me, aren't you?' cried the man. Susan looked at him and answered slowly: 'I have no time for this kind of things, ambassador. Something more: I don't want to do it. I have been far from the politics for too long. I can't manage with my… relatives, and you talk about a whole country. Sto Helit have to get used to exist without a ruler. After all you have survived without one for almost forty years.'

'Your Grace, you are frightening me more and more.' murmured Lord Cunning with eyes wide open.

'I didn't want to do it, sir.' said Susan. 'But there are things I can't handle and I am a person which admits the truth whatever it is.'

'But your country…' started the ambassador.

'My country is better when I am not there.' Susan stared at him. He stared at her. His eyes were wet already. She regretted she couldn't tell him more. How to tell a man like him what would happen in some weeks when her grandfather comes back? How to explain what she was feeling now? Being a hostage of her own family… Expecting the appearance of the tall bony scythe holding figure at her front, asking for her attention… A ruler of a country frightened that tomorrow will not exist any more. There would be a long numbers of boring sorrowful tomorrows when nothing changes…

Ambassador Cunning smiled at her anxious eyes.

'I believe you will reconsider soon.' he said. 'After all you _are_ a true descendant of His Lordship Sir Mortimer and Her Ladyship Lady Isabel – the best ruler Sto Helit had ever have.'

He stood up from his place and marched to the door. Before exiting he turned to see her again and pronounced uneasily:

'My long practice taught me many things, Your Ladyship. The first lesson I learned was: Never say never.'

He pressed the door handle and puller the door to him.

'I guess the dinner will start any moment. I will send someone to call you, Your Grace. Use your time. Relax.' He exited. Before closing the door he whispered:

'Rethink, Your Ladyship. We… need you.'

---

The shadow stood at the body in his feet. He brandished the scythe. The ghost of the old man raised from his dead body.

LORD CRIMPY SNIFFLER, said the shadow. The old man's soul nodded.

'You came to slay me?' he asked.

NOT EXACTLY, LORD SNIFFLER, answered the shadow. I CAME TO LEAD YOU AWAY.

'Lead me where?' asked the old man.

TO THE ETERNITY.

'Oh' cried Lord Sniffler. 'You are the Grim Ripper… Does it mean I didn't die in assassination?'

The shadow nodded.

'Good!' smiled the man. 'I always thought I will die in assassination. Let me guess who would be most happy seeing me dead: my eldest. Right?'

RIGHT, answered the shadow.

'I want to see his face when he finds out I died in _natural_ causes.' The ghost smiled. Then he stared at the shadow. 'I died in natural cause, right?'

YES, answered John. YOU DIED IN A HEART ATTACK.

'Good!' laughed the old man. Then he stared at the shadow. 'Do you know what… I see now… You have knifes in your belt… I didn't know the Ripper would wear… Are you sure you are not an assassin?'

John cleared his throat. ACTUALLY… I AM. I… REGISTERED THIS MORNING.

'You?' stared the old man. 'Does your job description require this?'

The shadow didn't answer.

'But you didn't kill me?'

NO. I DIDN'T KILL YOU.

The ghost squeezed his eyes. 'But you had my contract?'

YES. I HAD YOUR… CONTRACT.

'And now I am dead?'

The shadow nodded. The soul sighed with boredom. 'Damn! It will look like a slaughter anyway.' He put his non existing hands on his non existing waist. 'Whatever. Lead me. And don't forget to leave a card on my body.'

A CARD?

'Yes. A card.' Lord Sniffler rounded his eyes. 'It means that you had done your job.'

REALLY? Thoughtfully pronounced the shadow. I NEVER PUT ANY CARD BEFORE.

'Bad job, I say' pronounced the old man. 'Always leave a card after. A part of the job. You know, who will know who the slaughter was. Don't forget. No card – no money!' And disappeared.

John blinked for a while and thoughtfully thrust his hand into his pocket.

---

Sam Vimes Jr. Appeared at the embassy of Sto Helit shortly before the dinner was served. Susan stared at him with surprise. He stared at her with a smile. While he was coming to her, Susan was trying to press her heart to explode. He bowed gently and took her hand.

'Your Grace!' he said while kissing her hand. She tried to smile. The fact was she had her heart in her head, pulsing, taking all her blood from her face, making it even more pale than it was. She tried not to shimmer, but not successfully. Sam felt her nervousness, he was not less nervous than her. He would rather go to some champagne bowl and have a deep gulp before saying anything more.

They tried to avoid each other during the dinner, but the truth was they felt like there was no one around them, they could hear every breath, every word coming from the other one. Susan was nervous enough to let her eyes cross with his, while she was travelling her stare around the table. Sam was trying not to stare at her. Thanks gods the dinner didn't take too long. Susan was tired enough when she went to say good evening to each and everyone. Soon after that she went to her premises and short after shutting the door, she sprawled on her bed, sighing. Sam… He was so handsome tonight. She should fight with her prejudices and her desire the whole evening. Seeing him sitting only a few meters from her… Talking with other women… Oh, how dreadful life is, she thought, while unbuttoning her dress. She stopped at her dress front's buttons and the memory splashed into her mind.

The movement at her near made her turn around. Sam was staying by her bed, watching her from above.

'Have you waited me too long?'


	7. Chapter 7: A matter of Time

**I want to see the sky from above**

**Chapter 7: A matter of Time**

Death nodded to Alfred when he brought him his tea and proceeded with his papers. It was time to let Susan know he was back. Four months vacation was enough, he thought. She had to choose at last. He looked up, where Alfred was still standing. The old man anxiously fixed his glasses and pronounced slowly:

'Master…?'

Death stared at his pale face, expecting to hear what was following, but there was no sound coming from his mouth.

YES, ALFRED?

Alfred cleared his throat.

'I went to clean the Hourglass hall. Incidentally…'

YOU WENT INTO THE _HIDDEN_ ROOM? Supposed Death.

'Yes…' nervously answered Alfred. 'Is it true, master?'

Death sighed deeply.

YES.

'And when will you tell her?' asked Alfred, looking down, where his feet played with the scull carpet.

VERY SOON, answered Death. His eye hols brightened up in unexpected light. BUT I SUPPOSE SHE KNOWS ALREADY.

'Why didn't you stop her do it, master?' asked Alfred, still playing with the carpet. Death sighed once again and leaned back in his chair.

I WISH I COULD STOP HER, ALFRED, BUT YOU KNOW I CAN _NOT_ MESS IN THE LIFE.

'But you know what happens when a mortal does something like this, master.'

YES, I KNOW, answered Death. BUT SHE IS NOT EXACTLY MORTAL, ALFRED. SHE HAS SOME PART OF WHAT I AM, REMEMBER? SHE CAN CHOOSE AND I SHALL PRESENT HER OPPORTUNITY TO DO IT. VERY SOON.

'But, master, you know what'll happen when she chooses differently than…' said Alfred anxiously, staring at Death's scull. The Grim Reaper nodded thoughtfully. 'Couldn't you _do_ something?'

Death sighed once again and the light in his eye hols darkened.

I CAN DO MANY THINGS WHEN I PROCEED WITH HUMANS, ALFRED. answered Death. BUT I CAN'T DO MUCH IF THEY DON'T WANT ME TO MESS UP. YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS THEN, DON'T YOU? MY HANDS ARE TIED. IF SUSAN TAKES THE WRONG CHOICE I HAVE TO MAKE SOMETHING I DON'T LIKE, ALFRED. AND SHE WILL HATE ME PROBABLY. I DON'T WANT IT, ALFRED. I JUST HOPE LOBSANG WOULD COME TO THE RIGHT CONCLUSIONS.

'Lobsang?' Alfred pronounced the name with some disgust. 'I thought you didn't want to meet the chap any more?'

I WILL HAVE NO OTHER CHOICE, ALFRED. thoughtfully said Death. I WILL NOT HAVE CHOICE…

---

Susan was in Lady Sybil's yellow drawing room. Young Theresa sat by her site on the sofa, giggling with satisfaction on the gossips coming from Lady Venturii's mouth. She knew it was a moment she had to keep her high spirit hidden and keep her feeling deeper than ever, but what was said was absolute joke for her sharp senses. What made her stay there was Susan. She had a strange influence over people, she should admit it, and Theresa was a young lady with a head on her neck. She wanted to be around miss Susan Stow. Not only because she liked her presence. It was true, she made her smile every time when she saw her on the street. She even changed her daily schedule so she could come to the Embassy and visit her twice a week. The second reason she wanted to be around her was her brother's confession some weeks earlier. She was in shock. Miss Susan and her eldest brother? Thanks gods Sam felt her so close to share. She couldn't believe if she would hear it from someone else.

Samuel Vimes Jr. knew he must have a release of his feelings. It couldn't be his father, nor his mother. They wouldn't understand him good enough. They were _parents_ after all. Frederic was brainless idiot in his opinion, there was nothing Vimesish in him, such a loss of space and time. But Theresa… She was a girl with a head, she knew when to listen and when to talk, she never interrupted his tirades with unnecessary questions and never said anything he didn't want to hear. The perfect audience he could have. When he shared his love affair with Susan Stow, she was astonished enough, but she said nothing. It was visible on her face she had many questions and even more prejudices according his relation, but she was brave and clever enough to say nothing. When he finished, she lowered her head and stood silent for some time. Then she looked up and asked him, what was he intending to do. He didn't answer. Theresa sighed deeply and left the room. Sam was astonished. She never made him understand what she was feeling before. But he already knew what he was doing. He was having a love affair. Not just ordinary love affair with another brainless lady from his encirclement. Nor a seamstress, not even a low rang girl wanting to have a night with the Head Assassin. They all wanted it… How could he count them? When he met Susan he stopped his shameful practice and the ladies cried aloud, but no success. He made them understand it was over. He had become different man. Of course no one knew about his affair with the duchess of Sto Helit, they were clever enough to stay away from each other in public and pretend like strangers on the official occasions. But the nights they spent together. And this is what bothered Theresa.

Her brother was having a love affair with a high-ranking noble woman. Not only this – it was _miss_ Susan! And she was having an affair with the Master of the Assassin Guild of Ankh-Morpork. And Theresa knew it already. It was a disgrace. She made Sam know she didn't want to see him for some days. When she finally came to visit him in his office she told him he was a fool, making stuff like that with miss Susan. Their mother would die if she hear it. Sam didn't answer. Again. But she knew he was thinking how to do in future. What bothered her was that they were still together.

The truth was that Theresa was jealous. She loved her brother very much, obsessively, if a girl at her age could feel this sort of feelings. She knew Sam needed something more that the stupid ladies he gathered from time to time. And he wanted him to be happy. But she started observing his behaviour since the ball in their family mansion and she finally understood Sam was feeling something different than before. And as far as she knew miss Susan, soon or late she would brake his heart. And this is what Theresa didn't want to happen.

She sat by miss Susan's side on the sofa and giggled on the jokes the other ladies used to say. But she was not stupid. Her mission was not sitting there and listening the nonsense of the higher class women. She was there to estimate miss Susan. She must know how deep she was feeling about him. Did she feel at all? It seemed miss Susan had some feeling. At least she used to laugh, and her skin became purple when she put her forearm on the chair's arm too long without moving. And she felt hunger, because while they were there she ate four sandwiches.

But what did she feel about her brother? She wouldn't ask her that, it was obvious it was not the perfect moment to do it. She had no right to penetrate where she was not invited, but since Sam told her about his relation with miss Susan, doesn't it mean he wanted her to know it? And when he wanted her to know, didn't he want her to _do_ something? Was it a cry for help? Or just a brother's boasting?

Lady Sybil was having a hard time now. She wanted to get rid of the ladies joining her small matinee. She also had some questions to ask. At first place she had some fears doing it, because if she does, Sam and Theresa would find out that she was eavesdropping every time they went into their father's study. Sybil knew the special place she wouldn't be suspected of doing it. There was a small hole on the wall, separating her favourite drawing room from her husband's 'general staff'. While she was pretending to read a book, leaning on the wall, she was actually doing something different. Reading was not included. Samuel Vimes Sr. never knew why she was so intrigued in his job and she preferred it keep her little secret a secret after all. The problem was that she desperately wanted to know what this all would bring. She knew her eldest son, he was a serious honourable man and she really hoped he would be the same when he finds out…

Susan was a mystery, she used to hide too long from them, avoiding their invitations. But finally she came. And that was the perfect time Lady Sybil to make her self assure of what she was suspecting already.

'And her grandmother went to the opera house with that awful dress, believe or not, but she did. Can you imagine what a laughter it was?'

Lady Venturii finished with her tirade. She looked at miss Susan's direction. 'Oh, dear, you look you have recovered from your skinny period. I do see the difference, dear. What a blessing! You have to go to my tailor and pick up new dresses. I see you don't fit in you black gowns any more.'

Susan chocked and started coughing. Theresa hit her back and smiled nervously. Susan left the sandwich on the table and cleared her throat.

'Yes, dear Lady Anne, certainly, I will.'

Theresa and Lady Sybil exchanged glances. Susan noticed their hidden smiles and already regretted coming here. They might know, she thought. She wanted to hide this, but soon she understood it was absolutely impossible. Soon or late it would become visible. Now she really wanted her grandfather's appearance. At this moment especially. She hid her blush and secretly glanced at the both sides she used to glance for those two hours.

'I will recommend you to choose different colours, dear.' continued Lady Venturii. 'Black is so last season, Lady Susan. Green, yellow – these are the colours of the spring this year. And don't forget the lace, dear. It's highly important to have a lot of lace on your dress. Did you see Lady Selachii last week in the opera house? Oh, such a perfection! Such a beauty! You have to take an example, dear. After all you _are_ nobility. Don't hide it – _show_ it!'

'Yes, Lady Ann' said Susan and smiled. 'I will defiantly follow your advise. Where was your tailor's shop, you say?'

'On Filigree street, dear. In the beginning, dear. The corner house with the artificial rose bushes in front. You will not miss it, I know you will find Mrs. Backstitch really fascinating. She does miracles, dear. Real miracles. Highly recommended by me. Don't miss your chance, dear, you are important figure nowadays. She would be glad to have such high-ranking client. You know, _we_ _all_ use her services.'

'Thank you, Lady Ann.' answered Susan and glanced at the two directions again. They were laughing. Not visible, but they were. Susan sighed with boredom, leaned back and let everything happen. After all she had no other choice. Sam had to know it soon. Does it matter from whom?

---

The shadow stood by Dr. Vimes's chair. He was receiving another contract. The man at their front was nervous. It was important to receive the approval from the couple. He knew Dr. Vimes. He would accept it or refuse it, it was his right after all. But the man at his back was not that amicable. Since the Hogswatch Sir John Stow became Dr. Vimes's first counsellor, he shared everything with him. It was a mystery why it became that way.

The truth was that some days before Hogswatch John Stow, also called 'The Shadow of Death' received a small contract so fascinatingly simple and obviously successful, but he refused it, saying: 'HIS TIME IS NOT COME YET.'. That was not an explanation. It was a man's whim. The next few contracts he refused with the same explanation. Everyone laughed at his decision, rejecting such easy (and well paid) contract was foolish and idiotic, who does he think he is? A pompous aristocrat, a man with no idea what was going on in the world nowadays… Everyone laughed, the Shadow's eccentricity was too much. Not only giving all his money for charity, his refusals to gather with the nobilities and now – refusing contracts… But when some of the most successful assassins failed executing the same projects, the members of the oldest guild in Ankh-Morpork had to rethink their last statements. Soon sir John's advises became highly important. It was obvious the man had a head. And some unknown qualities, every assassin would kill to have. No one knew how he became such important figure in the Guild. Soon Dr. Vimes asked him to join in a contract order and then in some others. In some weeks Sir John's presence in the Obscure office was something common.

'I…' said the man at their front. '…He said he will do it, but he didn't. And I want to ask you if you could…'

Dr. Vimes leaned back in his chair. The shadow knit his eyebrows.

SOON, he said. BUT NOT NOW.

'Really?' smiled the man. 'When?'

IT'S A MATTER OF TIME, MR. ROD. explained the shadow. He turned to the young man sitting at his front and whispered: THE CONTRACT COULD BE FULFILLED IN SEVEN DAYS.

Dr. Vimes nodded and said.

'The fee…'

'Anything, Mr. Vimes' giggled the man. 'Whatever you say. I agree at any cost.'

'Seventy thousand dollars is not just money, Mr. Rod. It's money which you _must_ have if we agree with this contract.'

'Thirty five thousand will be in your deposit this afternoon.' said the man and stood up. 'Thank you, Mr. Vimes. Glad to work with you.'

He bowed and happily jigged to the exit.

Sam Jr. turned his snivel chair to the shadow and smiled. John smiled nervously. He walked around him slowly, there was no feeling on his face. He sat at the willingly vacated chair. The shadow looked at Sam and knit his eyebrows.

SOON I WILL HAVE TO GO, DR. VIMES.

Sam sighed uneasily and nodded.

SUSAN SHOULD COME WITH ME TOO.

Sam stared at him. The colour of his face disappeared.

AND… THE CHILD ALSO.

Sam blinked for some seconds and finally put his face in his palms.

I AM SORRY.

Sam sighed anxiously. He knew already. Of course. This is something the students in the Assassins school study during the fifth semester. He knew what happens with Susan's body. And he knew who she should blame for that. When he firstly recognised it he felt dizzy, ashamed and… but soon he felt there were some other feelings. He was happy. Having a child from Susan was something he really loved. And expected, actually. None of them was cautious, he wanted this child and here it appeared. But the sorrowful reality stroke him deep.

Susan… Go away? From him? With _the_ child?

'How could I prevent it?' he asked staring at the shadow.

John arched his eyebrows.

YOU CAN'T PREVENT IT, he answered.

'I _must_ prevent it!' he cried and stood up, starting pacing nervously through the study. 'I must prevent it, John! I _want_ to prevent it!'

YOU CAN DO NOTHING, DR. VIMES, answered the shadow. SUSAN WILL NOT STAY HERE. WHAT EVER YOU THINK SHE WILL NOT STAY HERE… THIS WAY OR… ANOTHER…

'What way?' stares Sam. The shadow cleared his throat.

SHE… he began. …WILL HAVE TO CHOOSE. AND SHE WILL CHOOSE WHAT IS BETTER FOR HER AND FOR THE CHILD. STAYING HERE IS NOT THE PERFECT WAY. YOU MUST KNOW IT. IF SHE STAYS HERE… SHE WILL DIE.

'_Die_?' cried Sam.

EVERYONE DIES, said the shadow. SOON OR LATE EVERYONE DIES. AND IF SHE STAYS HERE, SHE WILL DIE… SOON.

Sam blinked for some seconds, fixing his gaze at the man in his front. 'Is she… ill?'

NOT YET, answered the shadow. WHEN THE CHILD IS BORN, SHE WILL DIE.

Sam blinked for some more. 'Are you sure? Oh, gods, you _are_ sure, aren't you?'

The shadow nodded uneasily. 'What can I do?' Sam asked. John frowned.

DON'T MESS HER WHEN SHE CHOOSES.

The Head Assassin sat at his chair and put his head in his palms. He stood there for some minutes, then he whispered:

'Why?'

THAT WAS HER CHOICE.

The young man stared at the shadow with questionable eyes. The shadow sighed deeply, he had the expression of someone doubting to say whatever was on his mind sure of the insecurity of the reaction in his interlocutors. He finally moved his chair closer to the desk and said slowly:

ONCE UPON A TIME THERE WAS A LITTLE GIRL WHICH PARENTS DIED IN A CART ACCIDENT. WHEN DEATH CAME TO TAKE THEIR SOULS HE FELT HE HAD TO TAKE CARE OF THE GIRL… AND DEATH… ADOPTED HER…

---

When the shadow went out of the Obscure office, Sam Vimes Jr. leant back in his chair, hidden his head into his palms. He didn't expect it all, although he suspected something. After all there should be no such remarkable similarity between a mother and a daughter. But why did she lie them all for being Susan Sto Helit's daughter? And what about John? If that was his name? The shadow of death… Executing assassination contracts. What a chance…

What would happen now? He knew what he wanted to do – to go to Susan and ask for explanation. It was a disgrace. A woman with her rang and position doing such stupid things. She had to answer… And she had to tell him about the child. And the choice she had to take. Why? If what John told him was true, then she didn't have to be afraid for her life. After all, being Death's granddaughter had some positives, hadn't it?

'No.' said a voice.

Sam lifted his head to see what happens, but there was no one in the study except himself. What a chance, he thought. Susan had to answer, soon she had to…

'No, she hasn't.' said the voice again.

Sam strained his eyes to see into the darkness of the study. A silhouette set apart from the wall in his right and came nearer. The man wore a dark blue tunic shining in the darkness like a small galaxy. The Head Assassin loosened up the belt holding up his fist dagger. The mechanism clicked silently. Sam Vimes Jr. stared at the face of the man, taking the most undesirable seat at the Master assassin's eagle eyes.

'Who are you and what are you doing here?' asked the assassin. The other man didn't answer, just looked at him fixedly.

'Are you a wizard?' asked Sam. The man didn't answer again, staring at him with severe eyes.

'I would recommend you to speak or to leave, sir.' said Dr. Vimes, lowering his eyes into the papers in his desk. The man at his front stood silent for some time, observing his calm office work. Then he leaned back in his chair and pronounced slowly:

'So, this is the famous Sir Samuel Vimes my Susan shared her life with…'

The Head Assassin slowly lifted his eyes and stared at the man in his front. He didn't even blink, although Sam Vimes's eyes had the strange tendency to press into the angle.

'Who are you and what are you doing here?' asked Vimes nervously. 'And what the hell did you just said?!'

'I just said…' cried the man and stood up, staring at Sam's face. '…that you, _moron_, stole Susan from _me_!'

'I didn't know Susan belongs to someone.' said Sam and lifted from his seat also. His face stabbed into the stranger's.

'She doesn't.' answered the stranger still fixing at the assassin's face. 'But she is mine, _boy_! Leave her alone!'

'You want to fight?' asked Sam, staring at the man's eyes even too close. That closeness usually brought a heart attack or a strange mental disease. 'Let us!' He cried and made a small step back, pointing on the walls around them. 'Choose your weapon. Dagger? Sward? _Stick_?'

'You are sick, man!' said the stranger and made a step back. 'You can't fight with the Time. And this is what _I am_!'

Sam Vimes Jr. stared at the man at his front and arched an eyebrow. His face had the special expression a skilled guttersnipe would have looking at a peacock idiot, trying to pull his father's sward from the rusty sheath.

'What do you want from us… Mr. Time?' asked Vimes, sitting in his chair with a sigh.

'My name is Lobsang. I want you to stop bothering her.' answered Lobsang still staying and fixing in his face. 'I want you to leave her alone. When she decides she had to choose wisely. I cannot give too much time. If she chooses to stay here, I am not sure I could give her enough years.'

'I don't understand!' cried Sam and stood up hurriedly.

'Soon you will' answered Lobsand, detaching himself from the desk, already starting to go away. 'She did too much for you, boy. You have to be proud that Death's granddaughter carry your son.'

'You said…'

'She made her choice.' said Lobsang. 'She gave you a very special… present.'

Sam stared at him with absent eyes.

'Didn't you know? Never felt something unusual?' asked Lobsang, staring at Sam's bewildered eyes. 'While you were dancing on the ball four months ago? She did something no mortal should do. She… stole from her time and gave it to you. Gave you a chance. Didn't you notice what was happening with you the last few months before the ball? You were poisoned and you would die then, but she transferred her time to you, boy!'

Sam was too astonished to answer.

'You, humans! Always want to hear what you want and when find out it was not true, accuse the others for that. So human, indeed… And now you _dare_ accuse her of lying you? You, _puppy_! Did she ever tell you _anything_ that was not true? Answer me! And what did she give you in return? A chance to go on. And a chance to live further. Through your child. I would give all the time I have to be on your place. But you, ungrateful idiot… How dare you?!'

Sam stood up and stared at him.

'I was poisoned? Who?'

Lobsang smiled nervously, squeezing his eyes.

'Your former secretary, boy! The one that run away with the documents you have been searching for months.'

Sam slowly sat back. Lobsang stared at him again.

'And _that_ was the first thing coming on your mind? Who poisoned you? If I were you, I would think about Susan and the baby first. You selfish idiot! You don't deserve her! Oh, what would I do to be _you_ right now!'

He jumped from his place, because he saw Sam Vimes's eyes bursting into his head. The Head Assassin had a look on his face that might dig into a mountain, not mentioning someone's scull. He made a step away from his chair and came to him closely. Sam clenched his fists and hit Lobsang in his face.

'Don't even think saying anything like this, _Mr. Time_!' cried Vimes Jr., watching the Time rising from the floor, running his fingers through his mouth and watching fixedly into the blood in his fingers. 'I'll make you swallow _everything_ you just said!'

---------------------

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Next chapter: Susan have her hard choice.


	8. Chapter 8: I want to see the sky from ab

**I want to see the sky from above**

**Chapter 8: I want to see the sky from above**

When a human has to decide wisely, sometimes it's something very important, too important even, a meaning of life and death. Those times when one has to take a hard decision he usually devotes too less time to think and rethink. Absolutely big mistake. The history has many examples for such easy taken decisions. The usual result is sometimes invisible, but sometimes it's fatal to the one taken it.

Susan had to think a lot while she was expecting her grandfather. She knew when he was supposed to come, she felt it. Not only looking at the shadow's behaviour, becoming really stressful and obviously undesired company. Susan could feel Death's arrival, she had some very special senses, inherited metaphysically from her grandparent. She could feel the death coming around her, taking its invisible position around her inner world.

She thought about what she wanted. She knew exactly what she wanted. Some years after her imprisonment into Death's domain she secretly made a list of the things she would like to do in her lifetime. Most of them were already done. The list was not long, written with her clumsy handwriting on a special made scull engraved paper her grandfather used to order in a little printing house in Lancre. Seven of the nine items were ticked off with red ink. The last two disgraced her with the lack of the tick by their right side. Susan looked at the paper and smiled. It was not important when and where they would be executed, it was just a matter of time. The final item stressed her much, but she really wanted it. And what Susan wanted should be done soon or late. Soon, perhaps, thought Susan. She felt it like that. She wanted it so desperately, from years, it was her biggest, and most frighten, wish. And she knew Death would try to make her reconsider, but she knew exactly what she wanted and her grandfather would never stop her. She knew that. He might try to press her, but he wouldn't succeed.

It was dark evening, when she heard the steps, coming to her study. She knew it was not the Ambassador or his boring wife, they went to the Opera house an hour ago. The servants were liberated from their duties for the evening. It could be the shadow, but as any shadow his steps were too silent to be heard by anyone except Death himself. It would be Death, but she knew he wouldn't bother himself in making any noise, preparing the mortals for what was coming after.

Susan lifted herself from the couch she was leaning on and stared at the door. The noise became louder, the steps were followed by sounds like falling, giggles and several shushings. The door swung open, letting two drunk men enter. One of them hit the floor and giggled idiotically while standing up. Sam lifted up Lobsang and leaned on the door weakly, slowly slipping down, followed by his bottle comrade.

Susan looked at them nervously and sat on the couch, leaning heavily on the couch's back. Their liquorish eyes fixed on her angry stare and giggled.

'Heer she ijs, paaal!' mumbled Lobsang, pointing his unsteady finger. 'Wee caiim to seae you, Susie! Ouur lithhhlee Susie!'

'Yeah!' answered Sam and tried to lift up, but unsuccessfully. Susan sighed deeply and put a hand on her dizzy head, lifting up.

'You are drunk!' she pronounced calmly, while coming to help them up. They made some insecure steps to the chairs nearby and sat heavily, giggling. Susan rounded her eyes and sighed again, sitting back on the couch.

'What are you both doing here?' she asked, fixing her eyes in Sam's and then in Lobsang's direction. 'And how the hell did you _ever_ meet? Lobsang?'

Time sat comfortably in his chair and smiled nervously.

'Weiill, wee…'

'And you _fought_?' Susan moved closer, staring at their face bruises. 'What the disc have you done?'

Sam smiled and his winy nose wrinkled.

'Weel, Sus, you know…'

'No, I _don't_ know!' cried Susan, staring at his deep eyes. Her stare was world famous with its sobering bite. Sam shimmered and leaned back on his chair, lifting his shoulders, looking at Lobsang's dry figure, still swaying in his chair. Susan sighed and rounded her eyes again, this time fixing at Lobsang's direction. Time puffed some times and turned his eyes to Sam.

'What have you done, boys?' asked Susan, lifting to open the window. The drunken smell was not very healthy in any circumstances, especially for a young woman in her position. The wind went into the study, blowing the curtains, bringing some fresh and definitely rot stench from the still waters of nearest Ankh.

Sam pressed his nose, wrinkling his face. Ankh had the best sober effect, known on Disc. He lifted up and walked to the window, closing it with a swing. Then he leaned over Susan and kissed her. She drew back, letting him know his closeness at this moment was strictly undesired. He lifted his shoulders and groaned in pain, pressing his arm. Susan picked up his sleeve to his shoulder, staring at the bruises. He looked at her and gently kissed her forehead.

'I am fine.' he said, hugging her tight. 'Are you?' His eyes fixed at her, sliding slowly down on her abdomen, letting her know he was already introduced with her special condition. She moved back and sat on the coach, taking the open book at her left, pretending to read.

'Yes, Sam, I am fine.' she said slowly, avoiding his eyes. 'Thanks to _you_ I am fine.'

'I'm sorry.' said Sam and kneeled at her feet. 'Why didn't you tell me?' he asked after long consideration. She looked at him, smiled and pronounced:

'I was intending to tell you…'

'_Everything_?' stared Sam. She stared frightened. Then she looked at Lobsang, still sitting in his chair, pressing his fingers on his hawknose's arch. 'You _told_ him?' cried Susan. Lobsang shimmered. 'How _dare_ you!? Who gave you the right to…'

'Not him.' said Sam, putting a head on her lap. 'John did.'

Susan stared at his eyes, blinking nervously. 'He did what?'

Sam looked up and read her embarrassment. He stared at her for long time and said: 'I don't care, Susan. I don't have a shit who you are. I lov…'

'_Don't_!' cried Susan and stood up hurriedly. Sam startled. He followed her rapid pace around the study, his eyes trembled anxiously.

'Don't _ever_ say that!' said Susan, coming close enough for him to hear her whisper. 'Never again! Do _you_ understand?'

Sam stared at her for long time, then he sat on the floor, passing his shimmering palms over his pale face. Susan observed him for a while, then she went to Lobsang's chair and gazed at him from above.

'Lobsang!' she cried. 'What are you doing here? I thought I would never see you again.'

He lifted his eyes and moved his shoulders, saying nothing, but Susan was too well educated in the body language to read what he wanted to say. She moved closer to inspect the big bruise on his eye and smiled nervously.

'You are sick!' she said angrily. 'You are both very sick. Fighting? What for? Idiots! Coming here, as drunk as a couple of fishes? What do you want to demonstrate? How stupid and immature you are? It's obvious. You are the worst examples for any sot in the city. Go away! I don't want to see you until you fresh your minds enough. Get lost! Imbeciles!'

She shimmered nervously, inhaled deeply and staggered weekly. Sam jumped to hold her not to fall, followed by Lobsang, putting her to lie on the couch. Her face was pale, she breathed hardly, half closing her eyes.

'Susan!' cried Lobsang. 'Are you all right?'

She opened her tired eyes and answered dizzy.

'Do I look all right, Lobsang?' She fixed her eyes in his and lifted her hand, already embracing his bruise, smiling weakly. 'I am glad to see you again, Lobsang.' He smiled back, lifting her hand for a kiss. Sam stared at his mistress nervously, she stared him back and smiled. He hugged her tight. She shimmered, closed her eyes and answered the hug.

'I am not letting you go, Susan!' whispered Sam in her ear. 'Wherever you go, I go with you!'

Susan smiled nervously, her eyes watered. How could she tell him it was just a matter of time? Wherever she goes… She sighed deeply, looking at Lobsang, staying aside. He looked pale.

UHUM!

Susan opened her eyes. Death looked at her from above. She shimmered, staring at him. Then she closed her eyes letting the universe embrace her.

When she opened her eyes again, Death was sitting in his black chair, leaning over his black desk, lifting a peace of grey paper in his bony fingers, pretending not to see her at all. Susan sighed deeply, travelling her eyes around his dark study.

Death lifted his scull, pretending to be taken by surprise and smiled. The Shadow appeared from the deep darkness at his back, stood by his master and nodded uneasily. Susan closed her eyes, leaning weakly on the chair's handle.

I STILL DON'T HAVE MY MUFFINS, SUSAN. AND THE TEA. said Death, moving his eyes around Susan, pretending like nothing had happened. He was not a good actor. At all.

'Grandfather?' sighed Susan.

Death moved his head slowly, still not looking at her.

YES, GRANDDAUGHTER?'

'Granddad…' Susan's voice shimmered. 'Why did you… drag me here?'

Death looked at her, lifting his eyebrow.

I DIDN'T DRAG YOU HERE, SUSAN. I JUST MOVED YOU WHERE YOU SHOULD BE, _GRANDDAUGHTER_.

'What if I don't want to be here, grandfather?' asked Susan with trembling voice. She avoided his stare, blinking nervously.

I THOUGHT YOU LIKE HERE, answered Death with no passion in his voice. I THOUGHT YOU _AGREED_ TO STAY HERE. IN OUR LAST… CONVERSATION YOU SAID YOU AGREE TO…

'I said I agree to stay here until I find this place… undesired… any more…' answered Susan. Death stared at her.

YOU SAID SOMETHING _ELSE_, SUSAN! Death lifted up slowly, coming nearer. Susan stood up too, fixing her angry stare in her grandfather's front scull.

'I am NOT staying here, grandfather!' said Susan. Her eyes buried into his eye hols.

YOU ARE STAYING WHEREVER _I SAY_, GRANDDAUGHTER! Cried Death.

'No!' Susan came nearer.

YES! Death came nearer too.

'You can't make me do something I don't want!... Grandfather!'

I AM YOUR GRAND PARENT AND _I_ SAY WHATEVER I THINK IS BETTER FOR YOU! shouted Death, already pressing her nose with his nose hole. AND YOU _OBEY_!

Susan didn't even blink. Death stared at her long time. Someone should win, no one of them would let yield under the other one. Under any other circumstances they would laugh at each other, letting the other one to understand how stupid it all is. But not now. Everyone of them had something to loose. Each of them had to win under any circumstances.

Susan's eyes watered. She swallowed her tears, fighting with the fear her grandfather put in her head. She knew what he was doing. He was using 'the' stare. The one that made the mortals shimmer in horror. But she was Death's granddaughter. She couldn't just let him win. She strained every nerve she had and stared him back. Death shimmered slightly, almost invisibly for anyone but Susan. She smiled inside and let him know his weakness has been observed.

She detached from his stare and walked out, turning back.

'I am _not_ staying here even a minute more!' she whispered angrily and walked to the door. Death was very fast. He barred her way, obstructing her path by his heavy bony body. Susan tried to wind round, but he made her understand she was not going anywhere. If she wanted to continue her path she should pass over his dead body. She smiled nervously.

'You can't stop me, grandfather.' she said weakly. 'I am going out. With or without your consent.'

Death barred her way again.

_NEVER_, SUSAN! He cried. YOU KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF YOU GO OUT IN THE WORLD.

'Yes, grandfather…' sighed Susan. 'I will grow old and die.'

YOU WILL NOT GROW OLD, SUSAN, answered Death anxiously. BUT YOU WILL… DIE.

She fixed her stare at him and sighed deeply, closing her eyes. Death looked at her nervously, already reaching for her. She leaned back and shivered dizzy. Death caught her not to fall, but she repulsed his hold, drawing back.

'How much time?' she sighed weakly, stepping back. Death moved after her, still reaching.

AFTER THE CHILD IS BORN, he said. NOT LONGER AFTER THE CHILD IS BORN… SUSAN…

She put her head into her palms and sighed deeply. Death made a small step at her direction.

YOU KNEW WHAT YOU WERE DOING, DIDN'T YOU? asked Death. WHEN YOU… TURNED THE HOURGLASS… YOU KNEW WHAT IT WOULD BRING… I GAVE YOU OPPORTUNITY TO REST FOR A WHILE, SUSAN. NOT DO _THIS_! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? YOU ARE NOT DEATH, SUSAN! YOU ARE A HUMAN, A MORTAL. NO MORTAL SHOULD DO THIS, SUSAN! YOU KNEW THAT! AND YOU _STILL_ DID IT! WHY?

Susan didn't answer. She was shivering. Death came to support her, hugging her deep in his bony hold. She lowered her palms and stared at him. He made a surprise step back.

'At last!' she cried, laughing hysterically. '_At last_!' she yelled, lifting her stare at the endless wall, moving high into the deep dark space leading to the ceiling.

'Free… at last!' she whispered. Death stared at her nervously. She made a step away from him and rounded his strong dark figure.

WHAT ARE YOU _DOING_, SUSAN? cried Death. Susan didn't answer, already opening the door.

_WHERE ARE YOU GOING_? cried Death again, following her rapid detraction.

DON'T DO THIS, SUSAN!

Susan didn't stop. She rushed into the hourglass hall. Death followed her. She disappeared behind the corner. Death followed her steps. He couldn't see her, but he knew where she was going.

The door to the Hidden room was open. He rushed inside, while Susan was reaching for the only hourglass put there. When he came nearer she was staring at the sand in its upper part. It was moving slowly, the golden thread was frozen in its fall, keeping his strength for later. She pressed the hourglass in her hands and put it in her dress's pocket. Death stood at her front, shaking his head in silent hysteria. Susan looked at him and leaned closer, hugged him tight and whispered in his ear:

'I will see you soon, grandfather.' She kissed his bony cheek with the gentlest kiss a granddaughter could give to her grandparent. 'I will see you soon…'

Death stood still, when she moved away. He stood still, when he heard Binkey's neighing. He stood still when the shadow came nearer and stared at his eye hols. He stood still when John sighed deeply and disappeared.

When Alfred came to tap his shoulder he shook his scull and walked slowly to his study, locking the door behind him. Alfred stood at the door long time, then he sighed deeply and slowly moved away.

Death leaned on the door with absent eyes, and looked at the place Susan was sitting some minutes ago. There were some things she left behind. A woollen stole, a flower embroidered napkin, a silver hairpin and… a piece of paper. Death kneeled to take it. It rustled while he was unfolding it. He put his eyes on Susan's handwriting there.

'_Things to do:_

_1. To escape from granddad's domain for a while. (tick)_

_2. To eat a headcheese sandwich from Mrs. Toxaemia's store. (tick)_

_3. To have a beer at the Drum. (tick)_

_4. To get sick from the beer at the Drum. (tick)_

_5. To rent the same room in Mrs. Apathy's boarding house. (tick)_

_6. To go to the Opera house again dressed with that hideous dress I bought especially to make Lady Sybil laugh. (tick)_

_7. To fall in love. (tick)_

_8. To have a child._

_9. To die._

---

It was early in the morning when Susan woke up. The baby in the cradle slept calmly. She put her gentle hands over his little head, took his tiny fingers and pressed them tenderly. The clock over the fireplace ticked peacefully. The other clock, the one in Susan's head ticked threatening. She looked at the hourglass put by the silver candlestick by her bed and sighed. Her eyes watered. She looked at the baby again and wept.

Sto Helit was calm in the morning. She remembered how boring she used to find that quietness when she was a child, how desperately she wanted to make it much more messy, unpredictable and wild, while she was making her childish troubles and how angry and happy her father was when she pretended being ashamed of her actions while staying at his front.

Now she felt the quietness of Sto Helit double, even triple more depressing. She knew what would happen soon. She stared at the sand falling through the rift in her hourglass. She already felt the dizziness. Some weeks earlier when the child was born, she felt it for first time. Her time was to come. She knew that. The sand in the hourglass didn't let her forget what will follow very soon. She used to press her uneasiness, the strange beats of her heart, not letting anyone find out the pain she was feeling.

But now… It was a matter of time and she knew it. She closed her eyes.

GOOD MORNING, SUSAN.

Susan shimmered.

'Good morning, grandfather!' she whispered. The baby in the cradle crowed, Susan stared at her son, a tear fell from her eyes and moistured its gentle skin.

'You came to take me, grandfather?' she pronounced uneasily.

The Grim Ripper nodded.

YES, SUSAN.

She sighed deeply, still staring at her child.

'Make me a favour, grandfather.' she said anxiously. 'Take care… of Sam.'

I WILL, GRANDDAUGHTER, answered Death.

'And tell his father he has a wonderful child.'

YES, SUSAN, said Death.

'Tell him also… I loved him too…'

Death nodded.

'Don't let the child play with dangerous toys…' wept Susan, leaning over the baby.

I WILL NOT LET HIM PLAY WITH DANGEROUS TOYS, SUSAN. sighed Death nervously.

'When he will be big enough lead him to the world. He has to know his father.'

YES… SUSAN.

She stared at her grandparent's eye hols. He came nearer, leaned over her and sat by her site, taking her head in his lap. She hugged him tide, pressing his bones with her arms.

ARE YOU READY, GRANDDAUGHTER? he asked. She looked at the baby again, reached to embrace it for last time. The baby stared at her, read her scare and cried.

She nodded.

Death took her in his arms and hugged her tide. She screamed frightened. He looked at her.

I KNOW WHAT YOU WANT, SUSAN, said Death with his grim voice. YOU WANT IT SO MUCH. AND NOW… I GIVE YOU… THE FREEDOM YOU DESIRED SO MUCH...

Susan looked up, fixing her eyes in his eye hols. The sparkles inside made her feel sleepy.

'I am ready, grandfather.' she whispered. 'Lead me. I want to see the sky from above.'

Death sighed.

YOU WILL… SUSAN…

He moved up, stretched his bony arm, already holding the scythe. Susan took a deep breath. Death moved the scythe gently, his other hand took her hourglass, stared at it, following the last sand grits falling down. Susan felt the uneasiness taking her body. She looked at the child. It stared at her. She smiled.

Death sighed deeper than before.

Then he turned the hourglass.

Susan smiled again.

---

Sam Vimes Jr. was in his Obscure office, trying to read the last reports. Seven years passed since Susan's disappearance, but he still couldn't fix his attention in his doings, while he was left alone. The darkness of the study made him shimmer. Again. How could he forget about her? He tried. Many times. No success.

He sighed deeply, trying to put attention into the paper in his hands. The report about his former secretary's death was not interesting. Found in a small village at XXXX. New name: Vermin Freak. Position: Clerk in the municipality. Dead: _by accident_. Yeah, right. He smiled. Seven years searching… The cause of all his problems. Deserved something worse than falling into a timber mill.

She must be dead by now, he thought. She must be dead… John came to visit him some years earlier telling him he has a son. Said he would be able to see him soon. How soon? When? He learned how to fix into the shadows, picking out what was hiding in the darkness, hoping the boy will set off the shades and walk, saying: 'Hallo, father'. But it didn't happen. Seven years… Seven years of waiting and staring into the night…

The door knock made him come to his senses.

'Come in.' he cried. The clerk entered.

'Excuse me, sir. There are those people… They say you are expecting them…'

Sam moved his eyes, trying to remember if he had planned any meeting the same evening. He might, of course, he was not himself lately.

'Let them in.' said Sam and leaned back in his chair, preparing to welcome the next boring meeting with the next boring people with the same boring conversation.

The clerk moved out. Sam closed his eyes for a second. He already imagined the first sentences, coming out of his new visitors. '_Good evening, Lord Vimes. We came a business to do._'

When he opened his eyes he saw two silhouettes, almost blending with the darkness. He fixed his eyes to discern them from the shadows. The silhouettes came nearer. So near, but he still couldn't set them apart from the gloom.

'Good evening… father.' said the boy. Sam Vimes startled, staring at the face, shining with its childish smile.

'Good evening… Sam.' said Susan and removed her cowl.

**THE END**

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

_Well, that's it. Finally. I hope you enjoyed it, because I really did. My friends say this is the best 'drama' thing I have ever wrote, but I'm not very sure. The truth is that I wrote this story because I lost a bet. Advise: never play chess if you are not quite prepared to lose._

_Thank you for being with me. I would be glad if you review._


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